The Jedi Strike Back
by Mike Canary
Summary: After the Massacre of the Jedi at the Jedi Temple and the execution of Order 66, many Jedi are left wondering:What next? Follow Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy and Semreh Kaasen as they flee the Empire and strike back!
1. Chapter 1 Prologue

(Hi, this is my first story so I thought I'd give you an idea of what it's about. It follows an expanded universe character named Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy, known by her nickname Scout. She was first used in author Sean Stewarts book Yoda:Dark Rendezvous. I really enjoyed the character and so decided to write a fan fic about her. However, I do not own this character nor any other characters or ideas portrayed in this story)

Chapter 1

Sunsets on Coruscant are always spectacular. The beauty blood red light of the falling sun is rarely lost on even the busiest of Corusanti. At this climax of the day, heads in air taxis turn, beings halt, and all eyes turn to watch the last bit of unconquered nature on the city planet of Coruscant. However, even as the sun dances it's ballad across the sky, there are those who don't watch. Those whose lives carry one purpose. Those bred solely for war. In the lower streets of Corusant, the metallic stamping of boots tells many more shifty characters to flee to the dark alleyways. Few clone trooper contingents came this far into lower Corusant. Most of the time, they were busy guarding the streets of rich senators and patrolling streets where anti-war protests took place. As the crowd parted before them, few would have recognized the green and blue teardrop emblem on their shoulders, showing them to be of the 24th Legion, a unit virtually decimated in the tunnels beneath Cato Neimoidia. Those who remained after the weeks of fighting were noted for their excellence in tunnel warfare and skills with climbing and infiltration. Only consisting of about fifty men, their commander, Clone Commander C-41 was at the head of the column. Out of the clone surrounding him, only he noticed the sunset. As he gazed at the setting sun, he recognized its blood like color and was reminded of Cato Neimoidia. He sighed, remembering that hellish nightmare where over fifty percent of his platoon had been lost. If it hadn't been for the Jedi generals, they would never have gained victory in those tunnels. Shuddering he turned back to his men and his duty. Little did C-41 realize, that that sunset, that reminded him so much of bygone bloodshed signaled a new bloodshed, the bloodshed of sense and reason, of freedom and democracy, of the Jedi and of the Republic.

(This is my first story, so I'd really enjoy hearing what you all think of it. The next chapters should be coming very soon)


	2. Chapter 2 Trial

Chapter 2

Blinding light flashed across Semreh's eyes as he leaned backwards, barley dodging a cascade of blue energy. His master spun to the left and struck again at him. Semreh rolled desperately out of the way and brought his saber up to block the expected blow. It never came. Rather, Master Nostwa stood still, her double bladed lightsaber held in front of her. She clearly wished for him to attack. Semreh considered his next move. Master Noswa was a female Twi'lek and therefore faster and nimbler. Semreh was larger and stronger, but Master Nostwa would never let him get close enough to use that to his advantage.

"So the obvious problem," he thought, "is simply closing the distance between us so I can bring my greater strength to bear."

Semreh charged using a force powered leap to attack her from above. Their sabers clashed Semreh pushed off his master's saber and flipped over her. Spinning, he tried striking his master's leg, but her saber batted his blow away. Nostwa advanced at a steady pace her saber flashing everywhere at once, overwhelming Semreh's defenses. He was being backed into a corner and he knew it. Desperately, he reached out with the force and reached out around himself, feeling for some tool or trick that could give him an edge. Strategy had always been his strong point, and now he needed something to help him hold off his master. Centering himself, he felt a small patch of loose gravel in front of him. Reaching out with the force, he waited feeling deep into the loose rock pushing and weakening its foundations. Barley fending off his master, he waited until finally, she stepped onto the patch. Her foot broke through the loosened rock and she stumbled. That was all Semreh needed. He stepped forward quickly, grabbing her master's saber wrist and bringing his own saber up under her chin. His saber stood humming gently as they locked eyes, both realizing that the fight was over. Quiet applause echoed across the training room.

"Very good", said Master Cin Drallig, "Not quite as skilled with the lightsaber as I'd like, but your command of the force is certainly enough for you to pass the Trial of Skill." Semreh looked around bewildered. Cin Drallig was the combat instructor for virtually all stages of Jedi Combat. An elderly man, he nonetheless had mastered virtually all known forms of lightsaber combat and was one of the few who could still duel Master Yoda to a standstill. He stepped from the shadows of the nearest staircase clapping slowly.

"Master Cin Drallig," Semreh bowed low and respectfully, "What are you talking about?"

"Why, the passing of the first of your trials."

"Trials, what Trials," He asked, "I thought Master Yoda always said the Trials were something we must discover ourselves?" Cin Drallig sat down on a nearby bench with a sigh.

"Well, as you know there are four trials a padawan must face before they can be considered a Jedi Knight." Cin Drallig raised four of his fingers. "The Trial of Skill, the one you just faced, is traditionally passed when a Jedi has faced a duel with an extremely skilled opponent, or against incredible odds." Cin Drallig reached up to feel a small knotted scar just behind his ear.

"Then there's the Trial of the Flesh where a Jedi must endure terrible pain, either physical or emotional, the Trial of Courage where a padawan must fight bravely, and the Trial of Spirit, where a Jedi must look deep into his soul and face his weaknesses and his own evils." Cin Drallig rose and began pacing back and forth in front of them, as though he was lecturing a class of younglings on the basic forms of combat.

"As you know, this war has created a shortage of Jedi Knights. With our forces stretched so thin, the Council authorized the use of more…artificial trials, to speed up the process. We've had trials in this fashion before, but doing it this early is what's unusual. You are the test case." Semreh turned to his master.

"So our duel…" Nostwa nodded.

"Our duel was your trial." Nostwa gestured towards Cin Drallig. "Master Cin Drallig decided that dueling your own master, someone who you have fought with thousands of times before, who knows you better than any other Jedi, would provide an appropriate challenge." Nostwa smiled." In other words, your test of skill was to defeat me." Nostwa placed her hand on Semreh's shoulder.

"Semreh I've watched you grow up since you were a young boy and being defeated by you has made me one of the proudest masters in the Temple." She bowed low and as Semreh returned the bow a slow smile crept onto his face. He had passed the first Trial. Yet one thing still bothered him.

"Umm, Master Cin Drallig, what about the other 3 trials? I can hardly endure those in the Temple can I?"

Cin Drallig rubbed his temple. "As I said, this is all a test. To be honest, Yoda does not particularly approve. However, the need for knights is great. The Temple does have its own Jedi Trials chamber; however, it is almost always in use now. So, we've begun using less conventional forms of trial. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must attend to one of my classes." As Master Cin Drallig walked away, Master Nostwa turned to his young apprentice.

"You were excellent, my young padawan," Master Nostwa looked at her young friend fondly. "We've been through a lot together, and now at the end of our journey together, somehow I just wish it lasted longer." Silence hung between them for a moment. The realization that he would be on his own for the rest of his missions hit him like blow to the face. He suddenly felt that he would miss his masters guiding hand, and that feeling that no matter how he messed up, his master would be there to 'pull his jiffies out of the fire'. Then he laughed.

"Master Nostwa, you always were a little too serious." Semreh bowed low to his master. "Besides, just because I'm going to be a knight doesn't mean we won't go on missions anymore." He wrapped his arm around his master's shoulders with a warm chuckle.

"With a war like this going on, how could they break us up? Half the separatists never get a good nights sleep 'cause they dream about fighting us." The two of them laughed happily all sadness and worry gone. As they're laughter died, Semreh suddenly felt one question burning through his mind.

"Master," he said hesitantly, "I was wondering if I could ask you a question."

"Shoot"

Semreh paused, deep in thought. "Well, I was wondering… What can I improve on?" Nostwa chuckled.

"No one's perfect padawan. No matter how long or how hard you work, you will never be able to overcome certain challenges; you'll just have to live with that." Semreh stared at his feet.

"Master, I know that. I guess I mean, what is my greatest weakness? I know my skills with the lightsaber leave much to be desired and I need to learn to improvise more, but what do you believe is truly my greatest weakness."

Nostwa sensed the seriousness of his padawan's and thought carefully before answering.

"Well, you are remarkably skilled with the force. You have extraordinary control over it, a control I haven't seen in years. You are intelligent on the level of genius. This lets you battle tactically and outwit your opponents… even me. You have a calm demeanor that lets you stay calm and see the best way to fight in combat." Nostwa stood silently for a few moments, in deep thought.

"I suppose your greatest weakness is your own fear of your weakness."


	3. Chapter 3 Masters and Apprentices

Chapter 3

Master Nostwa sat deep in thought, pondering the words of her soon to be former padawan. She had never expected her student to be so concerned with her own weaknesses, nor had she ever expected herself to give such a straight forward answer. She was even more surprised because those were the words she had asked her master before knighthood. It seemed to much of a coinicident.

"What is my greatest weakness?" She thought aloud.

"I'd say your mouth." said a voice behind her. Master Llena Xan was striding towards her, robes flapping in her hurry.

"When you start talking to yourself, you can pretty much guess something is wrong." Llena sat down next to her with a sigh. "So, what's wrong? Nervous about sending your padawan out into the big wide galaxy?" Nostwa sighed.

"Maybe a little, but what really got me was something he said after his first trial." Llena looked at her friend questioningly.

"What'd he say?" Nostwa looked up into her friends eyes.

"He asked me what his greatest weakness was, something I too asked my master before I was knighted." Llena smiled in a nostalgic manner.

"I remember asking my master that too. He said I was too strict and impatient." Nostwa laughed.

"And now your students call you Iron Hand? Wow, you really worked hard on that one." The two laughed happily, remembering their youths. It had been so long since any of them had had a chance to reflect on their lives. Just mission after mission… and this war didn't help.

"Too many of us have lost touch with ourselves." Nostwa thought. "Jedi used to be able to look inward for strength and comfort. Now, all I sense when I look inward is turmoil.' Nostwa realized Llena was looking at her, a curious look on her face.

"So what you'd say?"

"I told him that he fears imperfection too much, that he needs to learn to live with his imperfections." Nostwa stood reflecting for a second. Llena smiled at Nostwa.

"Now that you mention it, I remember when I worked with him on acrobatics. We were doing an obstacle course and he completed it almost perfectly. Yet he kept doing it over and over. He was 4 seconds from the record and he refused to quit until he beat it." Llena frowned.

"In the end, he was so obsessed that he missed 2 of his next classes." Llena looked up thoughtfully. "I suppose the moral of that story is to not become obsessed." Nostwa shook her head.

"That's just it," she said, "Semreh was never able to just be satisfied. It gave him amazing drive, but also made him focus too much on his imperfections and they become distractions." Nostwa sighed.

"I guess I just wonder whether he's ready. What happens if he dies because I never taught him to let go of his desire to perfect his skills? I feel like I failed him." Llena looked straight ahead, thinking. Then she smiled.

"Hmmmm, so you've got a student who needs help accepting his weakness and letting go of his obsessions. Oh, and last I checked your padawan's dueling skills left something to be desired." Nostwa winced. That was the major chink in her padawan's armor and the one skill he never excelled at.

"Honestly, I was quite surprised he managed to beat me," Nostwa said, "Semreh's something of a tactical genius. When we attacked Ord Radama to seize the Confederacy stronghold there, it was he who came up with the idea to assault using portable shield generators, an idea he from the Gungans technology. If not for him, the battle would have been much bloodier." Nostwa felt her wrist, still sore from her duel with Semreh.

"That was how he beat me," she said somewhat proudly, "he used the force to set a trap for me and I walked right into it."

"Yet," Llena continued, "There's no reason those skills can't improve." Nostwa looked at Iron Hand suspiciously.

"What are you suggesting Llena." Llena smiled a sly smile.

"Well, you have a student who is a perfectionist, needs work with his combat and saber skills, and needs to learn to lighten up, while I know a student who has lost 2 masters in this war and needs work with manipulating the Force. Each possesses something the other needs. The obvious answer is to put them both together and help them learn from each other." Master Nostwa thought for a moment, considering the idea.

"Who do you have in mind?"


	4. Chapter 4 Movement of the Pawns

Chapter 4

Coruscant was like just like every other big city in C-41's eyes. Filled with purposeless scum who the Republic could do without. As he and his platoon continued their march deeper into the underbelly of Coruscant, C-41's soldier sense that they were being followed became more and more prominent. The dark alleys and narrow corridors of the city screamed ambush and reports of large gangs of criminals hiding out down here did nothing to alleviate his worry. As he looked around at his platoon he remembered how many there had been when they first boarded ships to leave Kamino. Now, there were less than a hundred. He sighed, and then turned as he felt one of his clones tap him on the shoulder.

"You know commander," said one of his sergeants, U-30, "I got the feeling your 'soldier' sense is acting up. What's wrong?" C-41 turned to him. U-30 had been with him from their very first campaign and they'd become as close as comrades could get. While on Kamino, C-41's uncanny ability to sense ambushes while in tunnels had impressed U-30 and even saved his life once.

"It's nothing U-30, just got a bad feeling about all of this." U-30 nodded in solemn agreement.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I know we don't question orders but, what are we doing down here. In the Outer Rim sieges there's dozens of Sep strongholds we could be storming right now and instead we're sent to Corascant and ordered into its lowest regions with no orders except to work our way into the Temple District. Why?" C-41 shook his head.

"I don't know brother. I suppose there could be any number of reasons we were sent down here. Maybe the local populace is cooperating with Sep terror cells." U-30 shrugged his shoulders.

"My sources haven't told me anything like that. In fact, I was told terror activity has virtually stopped since the Sep raid on Coruscant." Slinging his flechette launcher over his shoulder, U-30 turned around and walked towards the rear of the column. Shouting over his shoulder he yelled "All I'm saying sir is that this all seems very suspicious to me." C-41 stared back for a second, suddenly unsure about his orders and duty. His entire life had one purpose, to defend the Republic and its ideals. That was what he was trained, no, created for. That was his whole reason for life. Yet, why should he fight for a system that gave him orders with no reason, that gave him orders that they never bothered to explain. Suddenly frustrated he turned and looked at the clones marching around him. They all seemed so sure, unshakable in their belief that their duty was worth dying for. Yet, how many of his brothers had died on Cato Nemoidia, and how many more would the Republic sacrifice before this war ended. He knew his men must also have these thoughts, but like him were unsure how to deal with the fact that their friends and comrades may have died for nothing. In the end all he could do was follow those orders. Suddenly a crash sounded from one of the side alleys. A small creature under 1 meter tall and wearing rough black robes scurried by dodging through the clones ranks. A few of the cursing clones grabbed at it, but it managed to evade their lunges. Then, out of the corner of his eye, C-41 saw a flash of metal shining against the sun, followed by the dull 'thunk' of metal slamming into skin. The robed creature fell hard; rolling several yards before finally he laid face down, a long slender metallic knife protruding from its back. The clones all turned as one, weapons trained on the dark alley where the knife had flown from. A small chuckle echoed from the alley.

"My, my," said a strangely familiar voice, "You are a bunch of jumpy clones. Wouldn't want to accidently kill one of your own would you?" From the shadows stepped 3 clones like themselves, armored in what appeared to be the standard issue of armor for many battalions across the galaxy, except for several lethal differences. From their wrists extended long lethal looking blades and each move they made was made gracefully and efficiently, with an economy granted only by perfect genetics instilled by Kamino geneticists.

"Clone Assassins", whispered one of his men into his comlink. C-41 wrenched. Clone Assassins had been created to help counter the increasing number of dark Jedi and force users employed by the Confederacy. They were genetically modified to have reflexes on par with Jedi and amazing speed and stealth. They also tended to be extremely sadistic and cruel, often torturing prisoners in their attempts to extract information on targets. That however wasn't what made them naturally distasteful for clone troopers; it was the rumors of them being used to hunt down clone deserters and dissenters. As hated as deserters were, those who killed and tortured their comrades were far more despised. So, as C-41 approached the assassin, his hand reflexively edged towards the blaster at his hip. Behind him, his men were just as tense, fingering weapons and edging slowly into squad formations. C-41 extended his hand to the assassin, knowing full well the clone could cut him down before he could blink.

"Are you the battalion we're supposed to contact?" The clone asked, not taking his hand.

"I suppose so." C-41 answered, "We were ordered to make our way to the lower levels of the Temple district until we met our contacts." C-41 looked the three assassins up in down.

"Evidently, you're our contacts?"

"You're a genius for cannon fodder," he replied condescendingly. He turned to his two me. "Go ahead and ensure that the streets are clear for us." The two clones nodded silently and moved quickly ahead of the column. C-41 watched them go and signaled for his men to form up for the march. Then, he turned to the remaining assassin.

"So, what's our objective?" The assassin turned and moved to the front of the column.

"My clones and I are to lead you to the rendezvous sight where we will receive further orders."

"And where is the rendezvous sight?" C-41 demanded angrily. The assassin hesitated.

"It's… it's the service station beneath the Jedi Temple." C-41 paused, unsure how to react. In the back of his mind, he remembered a distant memory, of contingency orders being drilled into him at his earliest age.

"Come again soldier." The clone assassin sighed.

"I hate repeating myself, especially to cannon fodder." He turned away, clearly ending their conversation. C-41 briefly considered raising his blaster rifle to try and force more information out of 

him. He decided against it, and turned around to make sure none of his troopers were straggling. If this night was going to go like he thought it was, they'd need every man they could get.


	5. Chapter 5 Comrades

The Jedi Temple was a place solace and meditation, a place where young pupils and ancient masters needed calm and tranquility to contemplate and feel the Force. So, many of the rooms of the temple reflected this calm atmosphere. The training rooms were no exception. Though padded with soft mats and often filled with students honing their combat skills, the large open windows high above them still managed to create a spiritual feeling. The sight of the sun beams shining down to mingle with the sweat and tears of embroiled fighters was strangely poetic. Today the room is filled with fighters weaving and diving with lightsabers on very low settings. They would leave welts, but not do any permanent damage. Like dance partners, pairs of young Jedi spun around each other, struck, and then spun away, in an endless and lethal dance. In one corner, vibrant red haired girl danced around a young blond-haired boy, her saber weaving a continuous attack around him. His saber flashed back, meeting her attack at every angle. His feet barely shifting, he turned throwing a powerful strike at her waist. She ducked and twisted, barely dodging the blow. Quickly, she hurled her lightsaber at his legs as she spun away. The boy leapt flipping over her blade and landed next to her. He swiftly brought his lightsaber up to rest under her chin.

"All right, all right," Scout said with a sigh. "You got me. Now, help me up." Grinning, Whie gave her his hand and pulled her to her feet. They'd been practicing all morning and both of their limbs were worn down from constant combat, their once pristine robes and tunics were drenched from sweat. As they started for the door, they joked and laughed about their dueling session, mentally reviewing both their victories and mistakes. As Whie thought about their fight, he realized that his use of the Force seemed like an unfair advantage over Scout. For whatever reason, Whie was enormously powerful with the Force, his connection both deep and well understood, while Scout had to struggle to move a glass of juma juice. Sometimes she couldn't even do that. Whie fell silent as he thought of all the Jedi, some powerful Jedi masters, who had fallen in the war. He didn't fear his own death very much; he already knew how it would come due to a vision he had had and had learned to live with the knowledge. What he did fear was his fellow padawans and what would happen to them, but most of all, he feared what would happen to Scout. A few months before, His master, Maks Leem, and he had been sent on a mission to Vijun, along with Scout and her master. While en route to Vijun, they were ambushed by a group of droids and Dooku's dark apprentice, Asajj Ventress. Both their masters died there, cut down by her ruthless blades. After that, they had continued the mission alongside master Yoda landing on the dark side planet Vijun. There, Scout and he had again faced Asajj Ventress and narrowly escaped with their lives. If it hadn't been for Anakin and Obi Wan rescuing them, it would have been the end. While there though, something had happened between them. Whie had come very close to losing himself in the darkness of Vijun, yet Scout had pulled him back to the light. He wasn't sure he loved her, but they had become much closer. He liked it, but this closeness scared him. The war had already destroyed many noble and skilled Jedi. How would Scout survive?

"Owww!" He yelped. He rubbed his shoulder where Scout had punched him. "What was that for?" Scout shrugged.

"You were so deep in thought; I thought it would take a rancor to wake you up." She grinned at him as she jumped onto a nearby bench, balancing along its stone surface. "So, what are you doing the rest of the afternoon." The question caught Whie by surprise.

"I…I don't really know. Ever since Coruscant was attacked, all the Jedi remaining in the temple have been busy clearing out remaining troops and administering aid to the many wounded. I haven't had an official class in a week." Scout nodded. She flipped off the bench to walk next to him.

"I know what you mean," She said, "Ever since the attack, we've had so much time to just sit and enjoy lazy afternoons. It's driving me crazy. The entire galaxies at war, and we're stuck in the temple. Why do w… Scout stopped and glared at Whie as he laughed. "What's so funny!?"

"Oh, just that this is just what it felt like before Vijun, neither of us could wait to leave." His laughter faded as he saw Scout's face. Clearly neither of them was ready to reminisce on that mission. He quickly changed the subject.

"So, what should we do now?" Scout sighed.

"I don't kno-"

"Whie, Scout," a voice called from behind them. They turned and saw fellow padawan Bene running towards them. She was a young Jedi apprenticed to Master Cin Drallig. Whie had always thought her a little too aggressive, often skirting the dark side with her reckless lightsaber attacks. Still, she was one of Cin Drallig's finest students, second only to Serra Keto, who was now a Jedi Knight of some renown. She caught up to them panting heavily. "Master Cin Drallig wants you two to meet him in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. He wants to talk to you both."

"What," Scout asked curiously. Bene shrugged and began walking down the halway towards the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

"I don't know, but he seemed awfully grave," She shouted over her shoulder. Scout laughed.

"When isn't the Troll grave as a headstone?" She turned and hurried after Bene. Whie smiled ruefully and followed them, deep in thought. Suddenly, he felt sick to his stomach, and he felt the force surge around him, enveloping him, drowning him. He stumbled and had to grip one of the temple's pillars to keep from falling. Ahead, neither Scout nor Bene appeared to have noticed the disturbance in the force, nor his own weakness. Straightening, Whie steadied himself and hurried after them. The moment had passed and he felt fine. Surely there was no reason to worry them. Still, he had never felt the force react so violently…

A Quick Word-

Thanks to all those who have contributed with reviews and critiques. It is all greatly appreciated. With the upcoming school year, I hope to be able to increase how quickly I write chapters. Please, keep reading. Thanks.


	6. Chapter 6 The Final Moves

While most of Coruscant is lit at night with vibrant lights, often areas that see less traffic are left in the dark. Even beneath the Temple district. There the only building with power was the temples service station, where a large number of maintenance men and security guards worked to keep water and heat flowing to the temple. As C-41's and his troopers marched towards the service station, they saw several guards straighten at their post, pretending not to be bored with their jobs. While most of the soldiers over in GAR were clones, outfits like the Coruscant security and other local security and militia forces often were used for non-frontline duty. Despite his worry, C-41 smiled. His troops would never have slouched or slept on the job. From the first day he took command of his outfit, he had drilled a sense of discipline and pride into them. He remembered that day fondly. Standing in front of his new command, realizing that out of the original batch of troopers, he was one of the few survivors. Over the years, the original army of clones had been whittled down till only a couple hundred remained. These were then often promoted to commanders or given special op's missions along with the commandos. C-41 shook his head, yanking himself back to reality. His soldiers had formed up around the building, weapons relaxed, but held tightly in their hands. The service station employees had come out to check what the commotion was. C-41 did a quick headcount. There were 32 total, 15 armed security guards, 16 maintenance workers, and one red protocol droid. As his troops began to sit down and rest after their march, one of the station guards approached him hesitantly. He was a big man, powerfully built, with powerful shoulders. He seemed young, with short brown hair covered by rough brown cap that matched the rest of his uniform. A small blaster pistol was held at his side, with another one strapped to his thigh. Despite his apparent youth, he walked with a noticeable limp, and had small blaster scar on the right of his forehead. When he spoke his voice was gruff, but polite.

"Hello Commander, May I ask what you and your soldiers are doing out here this late?" C-41 smiled at the way he said soldiers instead of clones. This man had much more respect for troopers then most people.

"My troopers and I were ordered to come to the service station and await further orders. I trust you and I will have no problems captain…"

"Senmex." The captain replied. C-41 sensed he didn't trust the situation. Normally, C-41 wouldn't have worried about being cordial, but he was concerned what 15 armed nervous men would do when surrounded by lethal, faceless, clones. He gestured towards the man's leg.

"How'd you get the limp," C-41 asked. "Looks kind of recent." Senmex nodded as they sat down on nearby bench. He nodded and raised his pants leg up, revealing a long stitched up gash along the inside of his calf.

"When the Seps raided Coruscant, they sent some teams of droids into the lower levels. We think they were supposed to attack power and water stations. We went looking for them, and one of them happened to send a little shrapnel my way."He looked C-41's armor up and down. "Bet you guys can take plenty of shrapnel in those things." C-41 chuckled without any real humor touching his voice.

"Yeah, too bad the seps aren't throwing spears at us," he said, "the armor would finally be worth putting on." Senmex laughed nervously, eyeing C-41's eyeless helmet. C-41 decided to change the subject.

"So, why are you guys down here guarding a little old service station?" Senmex sighed loudly.

"This service station is connected to the Jedi Temple above us. It pumps all the water, heat, and other necessities up there. Coruscant security was concerned that terrorist groups might try to sabotage and even poison this station." Senmex looked thoughtful for a second. "I suppose it makes sense, but it's still boring as hell."

"Indeed," C-41 said standing up. "Excuse me; I need to take a call." Inside his helmet, his emergency frequency indicator was blinking. He walked to the outskirts of the perimeter his clones had set up and removed the portable hologram attached to his belt. Activating it, he observed a 5 inch tall hooded figure standing hunched before him.

"Commander C-41," the figure rasped. "The time to end this war has come. Intelligence has discovered that the Jedi have forged an alliance with the Confederacy. They have already attempted to assassinate me. You have a special mission. Go into the pipes and escort the clone assassins to the Jedi Temple. Kill any Jedi or security forces you find trying to flee through the tunnels. Let none escape." C-41 stood, motionless, waiting for the words he knew were coming. Then…

"Commander C-41", Palpatine said softly, "Execute order 66." C-41 nodded without hesitation.

"It will be done my lord." Turning, he turned to address his entire squad over his comlink.

"Order 66 has been activated. 1st squad, head towards the service station. Secure the pipes. Everyone else, the Temple has betrayed the Republic. Do what must be done!" Turning, he picked up his rifle as the sound of blaster fire began to sound. Moments later, it tapered off, and ended. As he entered the parameter, the bodies of 31 service workers were sprawled about the space. The droid had been fitted with a restraining bolt and one of the clone assassins was working on its control panel.

"I'll reprogram the droid to say that they were killed by Jedi insurgents," he said over his shoulder. "We can't leave any sign." C-41 nodded. As he turned, he saw U-30 shouldering his flechette launcher.

"Order 66, huh?" He sighed and walked towards the service station. "I never thought it would come to this." C-41 felt a surge of anger. He rushed forward and roughly grabbed U-30's shoulder.

"We follow orders and do our duty," C-41 growled, "Our loyalty is to the Republic!" U-30 pushed his shoulder away.

"I know, and I will follow that duty, but think about this. In another 3 years, we'll be biologically too old to serve thanks to our accelerated growth. Then what?" U-30 walked away. This time, C-41 didn't stop him. Though best of friends, the two would never see eye to eye on certain things. C-41 realized he shouldn't have been so hard on him. They all had doubts, even though these had no place on the battlefield. A groan from behind him caught his attention. He saw Senmex struggling to his knees; his body shot several times, his skin and uniform fusing from the heat. He saw looked around at his dead comrades in shock. C-41 advanced on him drawing a blaster pistol from his hip holster. Senmex looked up at him in bewilderment.

"What happened," he said grunting with pain. "Why did you kill my men? Why'd you shoot me?" C-41 raised his pistol. His aim was perfectly steady. Calm.

"Because you picked the wrong side." He said emotionlessly. He fired two shots, one in the head, and the other in the stomach. The flesh surrounding the wounds sizzled as the wounds opened and any remaining life left the man. C-41 looked around and saw he was the last clone still outside. He quickly joined his troopers, who were already starting to open the sewer pipes. The plan was to don scuba trooper gear and let the pumping water carry them up the pipes. They each had a blue print of the pipes in on the hud of their helmets, so they would all arrive at their correct positions along the pipe systems. Just below the Jedi Temple, the pipe systems leveled out and they would be able to walk and fight normally. They would then seal off the areas and ensure that none of the Jedi escaped.

"All right men," He said to his men as they suited up. "Let's go." And that was it. No grand speeches. No talk of old comrades and glorious last stands. Just another dip in the pool. As the current swept them away one by one, C-41 turned to the patient clone assassins.

"U-30 and I will help you get to tour rally point. Where is it on the blueprint?"Taking out a hollow gram, The assassin indicated an area in the center of the Temple.

"Here," he said, "Where the current will be strongest, just below the Room of a Thousand Fountains." C-41 nodded as he donned his scuba gear.

"Follow me then." He said as he threw himself into the dark rushing water.


	7. Chapter 7 Meditation

For the Jedi, nature and water represent the most important aspects of their religion, meditative calm and clearness of mind. In the heart of the Jedi Temple lies the Room of a Thousand Fountains, where the sound of water gently flowing and dripping provides many with a place to rest and meditate after a hard days training and studying. Thousands of gallons of water fall and drip onto rocks and ponds creating a spiritual atmosphere for young Jedi to connect with the warmth of the natural world on the cold steel of Coruscant. For Semreh, the calming effect was exactly what he needed. His master's words had left him puzzled and deeply disturbed. Your greatest weakness is your own fear of your weakness. What the hell did that mean? As he sat on the grass pondering his master's words, the world around him seemed to slow. Water droplets seemed to stall in an eternal fall. He'd always been good at finding that calming center, despite his sometimes energetic personality. Since the Clone Wars began, he had had very little time to just sit and think. He hated that. Semreh wasn't a fighter at heart. No Jedi was. When the Republic had called, he and his master had answered, taking command of the faceless clone soldiers and fighting on several planets, but that wasn't what Semreh needed. What he needed was to sit and meditate. What he wanted was to sit in the archives and study the ancient Jedi, reading of great knights and masters who shaped the Republic. Shame that the stories he read were nothing like the Clone Wars. Too many dead comrades. Too many lost friends. He felt his center slip as grief welled up inside of him.

During the many months of combat, he'd established a deep camaraderie with several clones under his command. Particularly the commando units, who he had worked with, while his master and he established guerilla units on Sluis Van. Semreh admired them and their tactical professionalism, though he sometimes wondered how they felt about fighting for the Republic, despite the fact that they had little apparent rights. Another thought suddenly crossed his mind. This war couldn't go on forever. What would happen to the clones then? Would they simply die off, help maintain order till their shortened lives were spent. He knew cloning corporations genetically accelerated the lives of their products, in order to keep demand high. He knew the Kaminoans would do the same, even with soldiers whose lives were likely to be short enough. He decided he would later ask Kina Ha, a Kaminoan Jedi, what they would do with millions of clone soldiers after the war.

"If there is an after the war for the Republic." Semreh thought grimly. Master Nostwa and he rarely spoke of the shortage of clones in this war, but both of them knew it was happening. Their last couple campaigns had been plagued with a shortage of clones to deploy, and a surplus of droids to destroy. Soon, they feared the reinforcements coming from Kamino would not be enough to halt the onslaught of droids. Semreh shook himself, freeing his mind of such thoughts.

"Nothing I can do to change it," he said to himself, "Gotta focus on what I can do rather then why a bunch of skinny necked fish people aren't cranking out enough soldiers." He spun as a voice spoke behind him.

"Not a very Jedi thing to say padawan." Master Nostwa was standing, arms folded, a few feet away. Semreh bowed solemnly.

"Forgive me master, I didn't know you were there." He gathered himself and strode towards her. He saw a small smile on her face that told him she wasn't really angry, just filling the role of the disapproving Jedi master. After all, he'd heard her yell worst things at bounty hunters during fire-fights. They walked quickly through the garden, Semreh following in his master's wake.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your meditation padawan. I know how much you value it, but I'm afraid I have a surprise for you." Nostwa smiled rather mischievously, and Semreh immediately regretted leaving his quiet little meadow.

"You know Master; I really hate surprises, particularly ones that begin with you smiling at me that way. It's the smile you get before we ambush some Sep droids, or rescue some diplomat, or-

He stopped suddenly. His stomached heaved as he fell to his knees, the world spinning around him. He suddenly felt a sickening despair well up inside him, overwhelming his consciousness and turning doubt into a sheer panic. He felt as though he was in the grip of some devouring monster, helpless and all alone in the universe. His master reached out, steadying him, a look of deep concern on her face.

"Padawan! What's wrong, what happened?" As his vision settled, Semreh saw that master Nostwa's face was full of concern. She pulled him from his knees and steadied his wobbly legs. Semreh felt the wave subside slowly, like an oceans tide retracting from a beach.

"Ye-Yeah," he said slowly, "I think I'm all right. I just felt the force convulse violently. It was very powerful." Master Nostwa frowned slightly.

"Padawan, I felt it to, but it didn't seem that violent. Merely what we always seem to feel as this war burns across the galaxy. Are you sure you felt it was that intense?" Semreh thought carefully, thinking of the overwhelming panic and dread he'd felt, of how it enveloped him, crushing every good and happy feeling he had.

"Yes master, it felt very strong… and steeped in the dark side." Master Nostwa looked at Semreh for a few moments, eyes carefully observing him. She seemed deeply concerned, as though the fact that she felt such little disturbance was a sign of the dark sides increasing strength. She sat down on a nearby stone and indicated for Semreh to do the same.

"I know we're in a hurry, but I think it is worth being late to explain something to you." She extended her hand and lifted several nearby pebbles from the ground with the Force. They circled her hand in an intricate pattern, mesmerizing in its dance.

"You see Semreh, every Jedi must have a certain amount of sensitivity towards the Force, else they would be unable to use it. How this sensitivity manifests itself, however, can differ from person to person. Some Jedi, like you, feel it almost naturally. From an early age, you demonstrated your ability to control it." She guided the circling pebbles to her hand, where they landed gently in her palm.

"Others, like me, must train constantly to achieve your type of skill. When I was a padawan, I was much less connected to the Force then you. I had to spend years developing both my mind and body in order to achieve the skill I have today. Even now, you are coming close to my skill. This is why our partnership will soon come to an end…I simply have very little left that I can teach you." His master closed her fist, crushing the small pebble into dust. Semreh suddenly felt a change in the air, as though some great event in his life were passing. He placed a hand on his master's shoulder. They sat for a several minutes as thus, master and apprentice for the last time. Semreh relized he would miss his master and despite the excitement of knighthood, knew he still needed his master's guidance. They sat a long time, each deep in their own thoughts. Finally, Nostwa rose.

"Come on, we'll be late for your surprise." His master turned a mischievous smile on her face. "I wouldn't want you to be late for tha-." Nostwa stopped mid-sentence. A loud explosion sounded from the High Council quarter of the temple. "What was that!" she asked in a worried voice.

Semreh listened and realized that from the center of the temple, the faint ping of blaster fire could be heard. He looked at his master. She looked back. They understood. Together they ran down through the gardens. Words were not needed. Their strides, their leaps, their strength was in perfect sync.

"Master, what should we do?" Semreh said calmly. Somehow, crisis always seemed to calm him, focus him. "We can't just go charging off, we need to find out what's happening."

"I know padawan. Master Cin Drallig was supposed to meet us at the entrance to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. We'll check with him. If anyone knows what's happening, it will be him." Together they leapt a particularly large stream, landing with dull thuds on the other side.

"What do you think it was?" Semreh asked worriedly. "Some of the commandos I worked with said that the Seps have terror cells on many planets. Could it be an attack by them? Or maybe leftover battle droids? The Seps left some dormant in the lower parts of the city, it could be they were activated. Or-"

A large shadow eclipsing the sun outside a window caught his attention. He stopped, staring, unable to believe his eyes. A large Venator-class Star Destroyer was hovering over the temple, its turbolasers bombarding the lower parts. From it streamed LAAT/i gunships, launching missiles and lowering troops on grappling cables. And, marching toward the main entrance was a river of clones, clad in blue and white plastoid armor. Semreh stared in disbelief.

"Impossible!" he said. "There's no way the clones could be attacking. Did the Separatists get their own clone army? Maybe they corrupted a few? That'd explain the Star Destroyer. They could have stolen it" He looked at his master hopefully, eyes pleading for her to explain the madness before them. Nostwa stared, eyes wide and fearful. Then they cleared.

"No padawan." She said with a sigh. "Though I'm afraid we've found another of your faults. Sometimes, there are no logical answers. Sometimes, there's just chaos, and you always need a logical answer." She turned and continued sprinting with Semreh following.

"Now come on, we have to find Master Cin Drallig."

Thanks to all of you who have been reviewing. Sorry it took so long, but this was an important chapter so I wanted to do it right. Also, I had to make some changes in the storyline because of changes in Star Wars Canon, which is why it took so long. Also, I now want to include Karen Traviss in credits because she used the character Scout. Once again, All credit goes to George Lucas and Sean Stewart for Scout and most other characters. I hope you all continue to read and review new chapters. Also, I'd like to especially thank skywalker05 for reviewing so many of my chapters. Sorry about the grammer man, I ain't real good at it ;


	8. Chapter 8 Knightfall

Scout shifted her feet, unsure of what to do. Master Cin Drallig had been for gone a while, investigating the explosion  
they'd heard earlier. He'd left quickly, telling them to wait there by the entrance to the Room of a Thousand Fountains.  
Whie and Bene seemed just as worried as him. Bene was practicing her lightsaber forms, gracefully striking and dancing  
with imaginary opponents. Whie was meditating in a corner, trying to hide his distress. He seemed calm, but sweat beaded  
his brow and his breath was shallow. Scout knew he was concerned. The sounds of blaster fire had been ringing  
continuously through the temple. Finally, Whie rose.

"Look", he said in an impatient voice, "We can't just wait here. Whatever's going on in the temple hasn't died down. If it's a major attack, we should help fight it. " He seemed different than the Whie Scout knew. Older. Wilder. Something was wrong. Something had happened to him after Vijun. Why hadn't she noticed it?

"Whie," said Bene deactivating her saber, "We can't simply leave without knowing what's going on. For all we know, it's just a drill or something."

"Yeah Whie," Scout said cautiously, "It seems unlikely that a major attack could break through without us being alerted first. It's probably just…something else."

"And if it isn't?" He responded angrily, "What then, huh? Will we simply wait for the attackers to be repelled?" Whie stood, drawing his lightsaber from his belt. At that moment, Scout realized something was wrong with him. She moved forward, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Whie, what's wrong?" She asked in a concerned voice. "You're normally so calm about these things. Remember, I'm supposed to be the reckless one." She poked him in the rib jokingly. Whie brushed her hand away angrily.

"Scout, we can't just sit here. We have to act. We've gotta go help protect the Temple, it's our home!" His words struck Scout suddenly. She remembered a time where she would've said the same thing; when she would have thrown herself into battle to save her friends. Whie wasn't the only one who'd changed since Vijun. Scout felt more cautious, always thinking. She hated it. She'd lost two masters. Both times… she could do nothing. Nothing! For her first, she'd been left behind, while her master died in the sands of Geonosis. Her second master had died in her arms, slaughtered in an ambush designed by Asajj Ventress.

"Well," she thought, "not this time. I will not let more of my friend's die, not while I can protect them." Scout rose, drawing her lightsaber hilt from her belt. The explosions were getting closer and the blaster fire was intensifying.

"Whie, Bene, do either of you have your comlinks on you." Whie shook his head, but Bene reached into her robes and pulled out her comlink. "Good, use it to get in touch with some of the masters. Try to figure out what's wrong." Bene pressed a sequence of buttons, but only static was heard. Bene muttered curses and slapped the comlink.

"It's not working," she said angrily, "Something's keeping me from getting a signal." The blaster fire was much closer now, and Scout could hear shouting and screams of battle.

"Whie, either way, it seems like the enemy will come to us." She ignited her blade, the sky blue light shining. She loved that sound as its heat singed the air and sung its tune. Besides her, Whie's leaf green saber rose to life. They turned to face the entrance to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Bene moved to shut the door, locking it.

"Quickly," Bene said, "we need to barricade this as best we can. It could by us some ti-."

"No," Whie said, opening the door to the long hallway, "we need to leave the entrance open so any retreating Jedi can get in. We'll act like a fallback position so they can reorganize."

Bene raised an eyebrow questioningly. "What makes you think that it's the Jedi that are in retreat?" She seemed cocky, trying to dispel the doubts before battle. Whie's face grew grim as he spoke.

"Because, I can feel death in the temple. I can feel them dying." His voice rose in panic. "Every death feels like a hot brand on my soul." Scout moved to comfort him. This time he did not push her away.

"No matter what happens," Scout said, "We'll meet it together. As Knights." They stood together for a moment, united. Then, a group of younglings rounded the corner, faces terrified and eyes round with fear. Bene yelled for them to get behind them as an explosion ripped through the hallway, sending rubble flying through the air. From the fire leapt Cin Drallig, wielding a green blur of a sword against a figure clothed in black and brown. Scout couldn't see his face because the figures hood was raised, but it wielded a blue lightsaber much like her own. The figure raised his hand, sending Cin Drallig flying with a tremendous burst of the Force. He flipped, landing on his feet inside the archway of the garden.

"Scout", Whie yelled, "you protect the younglings. We'll deal with this." Whie and Bene moved to flank Master Cin Drallig. Scout rushed towards the small huddle of younglings. There were ten, all of various species and age. She knelt down next to a young female Cathar who was sobbing quietly.

"Hey," she whispered softly. "what's your name little one?"

"Ve-Ven Rasi Tuum." Scout smiled as best she could. Behind her, the sound of the lightsaber duel pierced her ears.

"Well Ven, we're going to play a game. We're playing follow the leader. Can you help me get your friends to follow me?" Ven nodded solemnly. "Good girl." She said, trying to guide them deeper into the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Suddenly, she heard a noise from one of the small ponds that dotted the Room. What happened next was instantaneous. A clone trooper burst from the pond, raised a rifle and opened fire. Scout threw herself in front of the children, saber flashing. The bolts flew back and struck the trooper in the head, but more were rising from the pond.

"Run!" Scout yelled. The children scattered, fleeing throughout the garden.

"Whie!" she yelled. "They're behind us!" Scout turned and saw that Whie was dueling alongside Cin Drallig against the dark figure, who now used only one hand. The other he was using to force choke Bene. Scout suddenly felt the urge to rush forward and save her.

"I can't just leave her", she thought. A sudden volley of blaster fire jerked her attention back to the battle. "No time. I've gotta cover their backs." About six clones had managed to clamber out of the pond and were now firing steadily into the garden, pursuing the fleeing younglings.

"I've got to get their attention." Raising her saber, she charged, using a large boulder to add height to her jump, coming down among the clones. She turned, slashed, and spun away. To troopers fell, deep gouges in their plastoid armor. The rest turned their blasters on her. Desperately, she deactivated her saber flung herself into the water, hiding beneath the surface. She reached for the rebreather in her robes, attaching it to her face. She saw the wall of the pond had been blown open by an explosive, revealing a large pipe that had been cut open a few clones by the hole, helping their compatriots through the hole. One of them pointed at her, indicating the clones to attack. Two of them swam forward, movements unusually fast under water. They had on unusual armor, it looked lighter and seemed to give them better movement. One of them closed his fist, and a long blade slid from his wrist.

"Blast!" She thought. She couldn't ignite her lightsaber under water; the blade would short out. The two clones were moving closer now, clearly relishing their kill. Now within arm's length, one of them swung his arm, blade aimed at her throat. Scout raised her arm, catching the clone's arm in her arm, locking it. Her other hand ripped off the clone's helmet.

"Weren't expecting that were you," She thought. She saw the clone breath in, swallowing water. The clone tried to swim to the surface, but Scout pulled him back down. His partner stood to the side, watching the struggle. He made no move to help his partner, watching him drown. Scout now wrapped her other arm, using a hold master Iron Hand had taught her to restrain opponents. The clone thrashed and fought, but soon, Scout felt his heart slow. She released him, letting him slowly float through the water. Scout knew now that the other clone would move. She wondered how he'd kill her. Would he cut her throat, or gut her, letting her own stomach acid finish her off? The clone moved forward slowly, but this time he was taking no chances. He would finish her, and then move to kill Cin Drallig. To kill the younglings. To kill Whie.

"NO!" she thought, legs pushing her towards the surface. The clone grabbed her ankle and pulled her back down. She couldn't let this guy escape the pond. When he pulled her back down, she grabbed beneath the man's helmet, grabbing his neck. The man thrashed, trying to stab her, but Scout felt the Force throb and warn her. She dodged, wrapping her neck around the clone's neck. She could feel herself weakening, her movements slowing. Finally, with one last burst of strength, she twisted the clone's neck, killing him. Devoid of any strength, she floated to the surface and swam towards the shore. She fell sputtering on the grass, lying on her back. Dots swam before her eyes as she gasped in sweet air. Suddenly, a clone trooper was standing above her, blaster rifle leveled at her face.

"Executing Order 66." Scout watched as the flame of the blaster fire began to emerge. Then… the metal around the muzzle was crushed, closing the exit of the blast. The trooper was picked up and thrown back several feet into another squad of clones, where the blaster rifle exploded. A pair of hands pulled her up off her back.

"Come on Tallisibeth," a voice yelled, "We've got to get out of here." Scout's head suddenly cleared.

"Don't call me that!" She yelled over the sounds of battle. "My name's Scout." She finally saw her savior, a green Twi'lek with a double sided light saber in her hand. Behind her, a young Jedi with short brown hair was deflecting a barrage of fire with a forest green lightsaber.

"Master!" He yelled, "We've got to get moving. We can't hold them off forever." Beyond the firefight, Scout saw Master Cin Drallig and Whie dueling the figure furiously. Bene lay to the side, a crumble of disheveled robes. She suddenly felt herself rise to her feet, stumbling towards the fight. The Twi'lek left, joining her padawan in battling the clones, trying to push them back into the water. Scout continued her desperate, tottering run, trying to get to the battle.

Suddenly, her field of vision change. She saw the terrible figure before her, battling him, trying to hold him off. She already knew she was dead; now she was just trying to by time for the rest to flee. Than the figure turned, and his hood fell back. She saw a face scarred by war and shaped into a mask of fury. The face of a former Jedi who had once saved her life, who had chased away the demon Asajj Ventress. It was Anakin Skywalker, hero of the Republic. Shock coursed through her as he raised his hand and pushed her back. She flipped through the air and ran forward, roaring. She didn't see his saber fall from above, striking her in the head, hewing her body from neck to shoulder. She fell, the feeling of shock still burning to match the lighsaber wound.

**Stay Tuned**

**I also revised this thanks to a suggestion from Elemarth. Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9 Checkmate

Semreh never thought he'd see the temple become a battlefield. Even when Coruscant was invaded, few, any, of the enemy troops had managed to attack the temple. It was the home of the Jedi, a peaceful but powerful group of warriors who controlled the Force. It had security befitting a place that housed virtually every general in the Clone Army. It was a nexus of the light side of the force, a stronghold against the dark, the only flame holding back the night. There was only one problem. The Jedi had been too trusting. Even after fighting and dying besides each other for the past several years, the clones had still betrayed them, and now were wiping them out. Semreh loved the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and seeing it aflame drove him dangerously close to the dark side. Only the calm he felt radiating from his master held his anger at bay. As more clones continued to clamber from the pond, Semreh flipped backwards, forced back by another volley. Clones were now rushing from the hallway as well, throwing a wall of flame at Semreh and his master. Suddenly…

"Nooooo!" Semreh turned and saw the Tallisibeth girl fall to her knees, clutching her head. A terrible anguished scream tore from her lips. She was watching the fight between the two Jedi and the dark figure. The padawan, he didn't know his name, fell to his knees, head split open from a blow by the figures blue lightsaber. He fell to his knees, already dead before he hit the floor. The girl screamed and screamed, no longer caring about the blaster fire, trying to drag herself towards the duel where Cin Drallig had desperately fallen back, his defenses being over whelmed.

"Master Nostwa", he said calmly, "Whatever that thing is, we can't fight it and these clones." Another volley of fire streamed from the clones, and one of them raised a flechette rifle, sending sprays of needle sharp shards towards them. Semreh threw himself aside, rolling so he came up between the clones and Tallisbeth.

"We've gotta find cover master. We're too exposed out here." Master Nostwa flipped, landing next to him. Her saber flashed, blades catching lasers and flechettes before they struck the girl.

"Agreed. Check on the girl and get her moving farther into the garden. We'll try to hide in the brush."

"Got it. Keep me covered." Holding his saber with his right hand, he rushed to the girl, grabbing her arm and hauling her to her feet. Unexpectedly, she turned and punched him in the nose.

"What'd you do tha-"Semreh stopped, stunned. Tallisbeth was stumbling towards the downed padawan. Right into the clones field of fire.

"Dammit," he yelled through a bloody nose, "Don't do that!" She didn't hear him and kept running, her strides becoming stronger by the second. Semreh rushed forward, deflecting as much fire as he could. Some of the bolts returned to their owners, but not enough. One grazed his leg, singing his tunic. Gritting his teeth, Semreh mad a desperate wild jump, landing next to where the girl was kneeling. She was holding the young padawan, trying to piece his head back together as though that would miraculously bring him back to life. She was rocking and sobbing like a madwoman. Standing front of her, Semreh tried to coax her back into the bushes, but she seemed not to hear her. Finally, master Nostwa arrived. Her robe was tattered and burned, and blood seeped from several of her wounds.

"What's wrong," she yelled over the screaming blasters.

"I can't get her to move." He grunted. "She's gone mad with grief." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a squad of clones led by the flechette wielding one moving to surround them.

"Semreh", Nostwa said sternly, "We need to move her whether she wants it or not. We can't let her be captured. You understand?" She sounded exhausted, like her strength was failing. Semreh nodded solemnly. He turned and raised his saber.

Scout had never felt anything more horrifying. She knew that the vision she'd seen was wasn't her own, nor the pain of the saber, nor the shock of learning who the dark figure was. She knew she'd been witnessing her best friend's death. For whatever reason, the Force had decided to let her bear witness to his final moments. The shock, the sadness, and the guilt overwhelmed her, sending her careening down. Her body felt numb as she cradled the head of her greatest friend. She wished he would just open his eyes and talk to her, but it wasn't like the holo-vids where the companions got a last moment before the end. Instead, Scout was forced to contend herself with the scared husk before her. She didn't hear the sounds of blasters, nor the hiss of sabers, nor her comrade's worried shouts. There was only her and the body of Whie, trapped in an abyss of sadness and sorrow.

"I wasn't strong enough", she thought, "Everyone who ever needed me, every time I had to protect someone, every time someone trusted me, I've never been strong enough." Visions flashed through her mind again. Master Chankar Kim's body lying trampled by battle droids while she slept safely in the temple, Master Maruk smiling as Asajj Ventress tore open his belly, even the little youngling Ven. Now Whie joined them, the mausoleum of the dead she couldn't protect. The hall of her endless failures. The grief had flooded into her, breaking her mind of all thought, breaking her body of all movement, so when the padawan raised the hilt of his saber, she couldn't even move.

The hilt of his lightsaber slammed down onto the top of her head. Semreh caught Tallisbeth as she slumped over, limp as a rag doll. Hauling her up, he threw her over his left shoulder and ran towards cover. The blaster fire followed, setting more of the bushes and trees on fire. As the flames grew higher, the smoke grew thicker, creating an almost physical barrier of smoke.

'We-We've got to g-get outta here," Semreh coughed. "The flames are rising!" Behind them, the flechette rifle clone was gaining with his squad. Despite the dense smoke, he noticed they had blood red tear shaped insignias on their shoulders.

"I recognize that crest," he thought "That's the 35th. The Tunnelers." On Cato Nemoidia, they'd been renowned for going in after the Sep leadership through their own tunnels. They'd been largely decimated by the end of the battle from ambushes and hard grinding battles and were now used for covert missions. He'd heard of them from the clones he'd worked with before. Supposedly they were angry that lower class clones were being cross trained by commandos to fill in for them.

As Semreh surveyed their situation, he realized that their situation was hopeless. The clones outnumbered the Jedi more than ten to one. There were simply too few Jedi, too few remaining to stem the tide. The clones had them pinned and the Tunnelers were bearing down on them.

"Well master, I guess this is it." He growled. "What do you want me to do?" Master Nostwa bowed her head, smiling that small smile she got before they ambushed an enemy or sprung a surprise. Semreh felt her gathering the Force around her, enveloping herself in a blanket of power. It all happened so quickly. Semreh placed Scout in a small gathering of rocks and ignited his lightsaber. His master was still gathering the Force, layering it around herself. It was as if she meant to take as much of the flickering light side and immerse herself in it. It was tremendous power, like something Semreh had only felt from the great masters.

"Master, what are you doing?!" Nostwa didn't answer. The air around her began to shimmer, heat radiating from the amount of Force she had gathered. Semreh watched in horror as her robes begin to blacken and burn.

"Semreh", she yelled hoarsely, "Run!"

Finally, she released the power. A shockwave of Force energy flew from her like a tidal wave, throwing clones in every direction. The Tunneler squad that had been advancing on them was thrown back backwards, not from the shockwave, but from their weapons exploding from the heat. The wave passed over Semreh and Tallisbeth, tightly controlled by Nostwa. The wave dissipated after a few seconds, leaving a large platoon of clones dispersed and scattered. The Tunnelers were dead or wounded, their fronts singed from their weapons exploding. Semreh ran to his master, who lay on her stomach smoke rising from her body. He turned her onto her back and gasped. Her clothes hung on her in rags, her skin was burnt and peeling off in charred strips. One of her lekku lay on the ground, still twitching.

"Master!" he said urgently, "Can you hear me!" He touched her neck with two fingers feeling for a pulse…There it was! It was faint, but she was definitely alive.

"Okay, she's alive" he thought, "but what do I do now. She looks to badly hurt to move." He looked over at Tallisbeth, who still lay hidden in among the brush and rocks. There was no way he could move both of them at the same time. Logically, Tallisbeth was the lightest and the most likely to survive. He knew that was what his master was thinking. It made sense to leave his master, to leave her to the mercy of the clones, but he couldn't tear himself away. Suddenly, Semreh broke down. It came suddenly, a flood of emotions. There was no hope. Even if he could escape, what would he do? He'd be hunted constantly, living a fugitive's life. A glorious death right here and now might be preferable. Maybe he should charge out now and take as many as he can down. After all, why wai-. His head snapped back as a fist snapped forward into his nose. He fell backwards, nose bloody.

"Why does everyone keep hitting me today?" He thought disoriented. Master Nostwa let her fist drop with a sigh.

"You've got to get out of here…Now!" Nostwa's voice was faint and guttural. As she spoke, flecks of blood appeared on her lips.

"Hang on master," he said tearing a strip of clothe from his tunic. "Looks like internal bleeding. We need to find a medic for you."

"No, no you don't have time." Miraculously, Nostwa's arms pushed herself up, pulling herself to her feet. Semreh watched, and realized that she wasn't moving a muscle, that she needed to move her own arms. She summoned her double-sided saber to her left hand. Her right was a hanging by a couple charred tendons. She ignited one side, unable to fight with both hands. "Semreh, I want you to take the girl and go. Go far away and hide." Semreh shook his head.

"Master, we can still get out together. I've been thinking up a few strategies. If we can grapple down the outside wall, we might be able to find a star fighter and-"

"NO PADAWAN!" she yelled. Semreh was taken aback. He'd never heard her lose her cool like that before. He saw her breathe, in out. In out. "Semreh, your strategies have saved us dozens of times. Your mind is your greatest strength. Always remember that." She smiled slightly at him.

"Master, I can get us all out." She shook her head, still smiling.

"No Semreh, not even you can. Now these are my last words, so shut up." She took a deep breath. "One, always protect your comrades. Two, always serve the greater justice. I fear this war has blinded us towards that. And three, and this is the most important one, you must always respect the Force." Nostwa gestured to the destruction around them.

"What you saw today was the use of the Force as a weapon. We Jedi use it because sometimes we must, but we must always remember it's not just a tool. It's our religion, and we must protect its integrity. Never use it unless it's absolutely necessary." She turned back to the burning garden, where the rest of the clones were reforming, determined to kill the remaining Jedi. Semreh watched as Nostwa limped towards the clones.

"Go now!" Tears fell from Semrehs eyes as he turned and ran towards Tallisbeth. Picking her up, he threw her over his shoulders with a loud grunt. He took one step, then another. Each step sparked a new thought, a new question.

"I wasn't good enough." He thought to himself. I wasn't smart enough. I should have been able to save him. Why couldn't I do it?" His slow steps sped up as he neared one of the ponds. Reaching out to the Force he grasped it, directed it. He raised his hand. Nothing happened. Then, one of the pipes below the pond ripped upwards, tearing earth and rock as it rose. Semreh looked backwards at the flashes of blaster rifles.

"I wasn't smart enough." He threw himself down the pipe like a slide, holding the girl close. The water was strong and the current swept them away. Semreh strapped a rebreather to his mouth, feeling sweet oxygen flowing. Then, he let himself go.

Nostwa couldn't go much longer. She was exhausted from using the Force so much. That explosion was a trick her old master had taught her, drawing the Force inside and releasing it in a massive shockwave. The only problem was that the energy had to be stored somewhere, in this case inside her body. That much concentrated energy would burn almost anything, and it certainly charred parts of her skin when it passed through. As she continued her walk, she realized that the flechette wielding clone had gotten to his feet.

"Nice trick Jedi, but my flechette doesn't have explosive ammo, like my poor boys had." He gestured towards the shattered bodies of his clones and the twisted remains of their weapons. The clone's helmet had fallen off and his armor looked like it'd been beaten with a sledge hammer, but he walked towards Nostwa, flechette launcher raised. Nostwa felt more clones coming, rushing to kill her. They turned the corner, rifles raised. She had one chance. She threw herself at the clone, swing her mangled right hand to knock the flechette aside. The spray of darts went wild, and Nostwa swung her lightsaber, burning through the clone's torso. She dimly felt the blaster bolts striking her back.

"Ha," she thought," at least there's not much left to burn." She fell forward onto the clone as the clones blasters tore into her. She looked down into the face of the clone she'd killed.

"Poor man," she thought in a moment of realization, "We were both used."

C-41 swung his rifle over his shoulder, running forward. Any military training he had had left him when he saw his friend cut down. He pulled the Jedi off of his clone. U-30 was lying there, barely moving. Only his lips moved, mouthing some phrase over and over again. C-41 had had intelligence training when his squad was cross trained to help support commandos. One of the things they taught them was lip reading, to help them communicate without alerting the enemy. Now, looking at his friend, he read the same word over and over again. Used. Used. Used.

Clones were trained to lose and move on, but he and U-30 had been together since Geonosis. He picked up his friend and walked back to his clones. Most were dead and those who weren't had lost hands and had their fronts torn open by the Jedi's shockwave. His clones had taken point and lost their lives because of it. His squad was decimated. He was the last of the 35th. Now, he no longer had a purpose. He wasn't sad, not about that. Just confused. What did he do now? One of the clone assassins approached him, armor smeared with blood.

"Feeling sentimental?" he sneered. "Get over it. Move on." He gestured towards where his own two clones lay. "We were made to fight and die. That's it." He turned, walking away with the usual lethal grace.

"Come along commander", he called over his shoulder. "Two Jedi managed to escape through the sewer system. We'll have to report that to Palpatine." C-41 followed. When the assassin had said the word Jedi, C-41 felt something he hadn't felt outside of the heat of battle. Hate. It wasn't the adrenaline driven hate of battle or the simmering hate of logistical paperwork. It was deep and uncompromising. He'd served under the Jedi, and they had simply backstabbed him and the rest of the clones. Now, if he ever met them, they were gonna pay!


	10. Chapter 10 New Game

Semreh let the current take him swiftly down the pipe. For whatever reason, the sewage systems of the temple were still operating, taking them towards the water purification plants. The pull of the water was incredible. His rebreather was still pumping oxygen into his lungs, and he'd managed to get one on the Tallisbeth girl. While being carried by the swirling water, he let his limbs hang loose, feeling energy returning to his body. He didn't know what lay at the end of this tunnel, but he knew he would need all his strength to get them off planet. Suddenly, the pipe dipped down, dropping them into a much larger tunnel. They both fell with a crash into what felt like water. The smell said otherwise. Semreh struggled towards the side of the tunnel, still dragging Tallisbeth. He hoisted her limp body onto a small ledge used by maintenance to avoid the filthy water. Hauling himself up, he Semreh fell onto his back, breathing hard. He lay there for several minutes, not thinking at all, mind clear of all thought. He couldn't think. If he thought about that day, he'd think about the Jedi he saw cut down in the temple. He'd think about the Room of a Thousand Fountains in flames, and his master's charred broken body. No, he needed action, something to take his mind off of their situation. A small groan came from the girl's body.

"Seems like she's coming to," he thought. Semreh readied himself, remembering her nice right hook that nearly broke his nose.

Scout woke slowly, her head throbbing with pain. As she became more aware, two thoughts crossed her mind.

"Why are my robes soaked, and what the heck smells like the inside of a Gamorrean." She opened her eyes and looked around. She was in a tunnel lit by what appeared to be dim glow rods. It gave the walls and waters an eerie green glow. Sitting cross legged nearby was a young man. He was short, only about 5 ft, and heavily built. His face was round, with short hair and a crooked, bloody nose. The robes he wore were splattered with an impressive variety of waste and sewage.

"Hey, what happened to your nose," she asked in a slightly dazed. He grinned ruefully. Reaching up, he grasped it firmly and cracked it back into place with a small grunt.

"I'm afraid you happened". The memory came flooding back to Scout, along with all the memories of the day. The invasion of the temple, her vision of Whie's death, the moments of mindless insane grief. It hit her, but this time, she couldn't say anything. She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, unable to cry or feel much except a dull throbbing pain in her head.

"Sorry about that." The boy laughed grimly, no smile in his voice.

"Don't worry about it. I probably deserved it." He stood up and looked around, clearly trying to find a way out. Finding no ladders or passageways in the immediate area, he turned to face her.

"Soooo, I know your name Tallisbeth, but I don't believe you know mine." He held out his hand, clearly trying to keep a conversational tone. "I'm Semreh Kaasen." She stared at him for a moment, wondering if what he was thinking, then reached out and shook. She pushed herself to her feet, using the nearby wall to steady herself. A thin layer of slime rubbed off onto her fingers. Grunting with discuss, she shook the slime off of her hand.

They rested a few minutes, sitting in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Finally Tallisbeth spoke.

"As much as I love the decorum, I think we should probably get out of these tunnels." Tallisbeth said sarcastically. Her voice softened a little.

"Oh, and my name's Scout. I hate my other name." Semreh nodded, glad to see she wasn't grieving too much to move. Reaching into his robes, he grabbed a glow rod and activated it.

"We need to find some ladders, or stairs maintenance people would use. That should lead us out of here." He started moving along the wall, Scout following closely.

"Do you have any idea what happened in the temple. Why did the clones attack?" Semreh didn't answer for several moments. Then…

"I really don't know. At first, I thought it might be a trap the seps laid for us. You know, feign a defeat during the battle of Coruscant, and then launch a surprise attack." Semreh sighed. "However, my master thought I was over complicating things. I'm not sure what he meant, but… we should probably lose our robes and anything else that might make us look like Jedi."

"Including our lightsabers?" Semreh hesitated, his whole being rebelling against the idea. His lightsaber was as much a part of him as his arm or leg. He'd built it himself, forging it on Ilum alongside his master. On the other hand, if the Jedi were being hunted, the lightsabers would immediately identify them.

"No…not yet. We shouldn't be unarmed, and lightsabers are easy enough to hide." They turned a corner, which led to yet another corridor of filth and water. "Either way, we need to get out of here first." They kept wandering, feeling along the wall in the dim light. Semreh knew they didn't have long before his glow rod ran out of energy, and so had shut it off. The walls were made of durasteel, but the thin film of slime deadened any reflecting light. They continued like this for several hours, making little conversation, focused on finding a way out. A few hours in, Scout spoke up.

"You know, we do still have our lightsabers. Why are we just feeling along the wall blindly?" Semreh stopped in his tracks. He remembered a saying his master had told him.

"Never focus too much on your goal padawan, or you'll miss shortcuts to it." Semreh drew his lightsaber, igniting it. The blazing green light illuminated the tunnel for maybe thirty yards. There, rising from the water of the tunnel, was a ladder.

"Woooooow!" Semreh said smacking himself in the head. "That could have been a major drag." He jumped to the ladder, determined to avoid as much of the sewage as possible. He climbed and reaching the top, saw that the security lockdown had been activated. It was a security measure meant to keep the water system safe from sabotage by separatists, yet another one of the security measures implemented by Palpatine to control Coruscant.

"Is it locked," Scout called from below. Semreh raised his lightsaber, ramming it into the hatch and began cutting a circle through it.

"Not for long."

C-41 knew that briefing the Chancellor was important, but he hardly expected to have to report personally. He was dressed in a fresh kaki barracks uniform, with rank bars on his left breast and medals decorating his right. His hip felt light without a blaster at his side, but security around Palpatine was tight these days. He watched the city grow more distant as the turbolift rose swiftly towards the Chancellor's office. He'd had several hours to reflect on the raid on the temple, on the massacre of his troops and the Jedi. C-41 knew that generals couldn't afford to be sentimental, that when the time came, they needed to fight wars like they play a game of chess, or risk losing the game, along with all their pieces. Still, that didn't make C-41 any less angry over his men being spent as pawns.

"Someone in High Command is definitely getting a kick in the _shebs." _He thought angrily. Of course, there would be no complaining to the Chancellor. Oh no, he'd sit like a good little clone and listen to the politician criticize his failure. He straightened as the turbolift doors opened, revealing the waiting room to the Chancellors office. He stepped in and observed his surroundings. The carpet was deep a maroon color, the furniture well made, yet a simple grey. Inside were two other men having a conversation. One was a clone like him. His face was young and unscarred, probably a second generation trooper. Then he turned and C-41 recognized him immediately. That small movement was so smooth, so deadly graceful, that even without the armor; C-41 knew it was the assassin he and his troops had escorted into the temple. The other was an elderly man with a balding head of brown hair. He wore an officer's uniform, and had a governor's strip on his left breast.

"Ah, Commander C-41, a pleasure to meet such a distinguished leader of our brave clones." He extended his hand, offering a handshake. C-41 took it nervously. Most of the mongrel, non clone, officers in GAR never bothered to show respect for their pawns.

"Governor Sir, with all due respect, when may we meet with Chancellor Palpatine? I'm eager to get my next assignment." C-41 maintained a respectful stance, hands clasped behind his back. The assassin stared angrily at him, angered by his abruptness. Tarkin merely smiled though.

"Yes, I see we are two men of a kind. Men of action." Tarkin walked around the desk and sat, going through papers and holodisks. Finally, he pulled from a pile a single hologram projector, which he handed to C-41. "Unfortunately, the Chancellor is busy today, so I shall debrief you." C-41 waited until Tarkin motioned for him to begin. He told the Chancellor everything. The attack on the service station, the swimming through the pipes, the destruction of his troop by the single Jedi. The assassin remained quiet until Tarkin addressed him, then he told about how his to compatriots were dispatched by the red headed padawan and how she and the other one fled using the water pipes. Tarkin nodded when he came to this part, and rose, clearly deep in thought. Finally he turned.

"C-41, you say you want your next assignment." C-41 snapped to attention.

"Yes sir, I am ready whenever you are."

"Good," Tarkin said, "Then, seeing as you currently find yourself without a command, I have a special mission for you. As you know, not all Jedi have been accounted for among the dead. We already have reports of them in the streets of Coruscant, massacring citizens and ambushing our troops whenever they get the chance. We must stop as many of them as we can, especially those who mean to get off planet. Otherwise, this anarchy will spread to other worlds, and we will never achieve peace. To do this, we've begun assigning Imperial Security Bureau personal to hunt down the traitors. These ISB agents have been dispatched after every Jedi we could find." Tarkin now shifted in his chair, leaning forward and studying them carefully. C-41 felt like he was a mouse watched by an eagle.

"As you can imagine, this has created a shortage of personal, so we've had to draw from other…resources. C-41 and CTA-132, your orders are to pursue these two padawans and bring them to justice. They cannot be allowed off planet. If they do escape, pursue them as far as it takes. Hunt them down!" He punctuated his last sentence with a loud bang, his fist striking his desk. The two clones nodded. C-41 relished the idea of bring down his men's killers, and CTA-132 wanted to match himself against the girl again. There was just one thing…

"Sir, may I ask how we're supposed to begin." C-41 asked. "Theoretically, those two could be anywhere in the pipe system by now, and therefore, anywhere in Coruscant." Tarkin pointed at the data pad C-41 held in his hand.

"The details are in there; however, reports indicate a security breach in part of the piping system of Column Commons sector. Sensors picked up a breach in the tunnel security and when soldiers arrived on the scene, they found a hole had been burned through the wall. The hole reportedly smelled of ozone." Tarkin leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "I'm relying on you two to stop them before they get off planet. It could take months, but I want it done. Do you understand?"

"Sir, yes sir." They both said. Turning on their heels, they turned and walked from the office, minds focused on their mission.

Tarkin keyed a few numbers into his comlink, and a small holographic Palpatine appeared.

"Chancellor," he said respectfully, "I've dealt with the issue we spoke of before."

"Excellent," the small figure said in a raspy voice, "In this time, dissent amongst our clone army cannot be allowed. You handled that rather eloquently Governor." Tarkin bowed his head slightly.

"I live to serve your Excellency. The one clone should keep the other one in line, in case any ideas of rebellion cross his mind." The Chancellor nodded gravely.

"I am calling a special assembly of Congress soon, Governor Tarkin. Be sure you are there. It is of upmost importance." Tarkin bowed his head again.

"Of course your Excellency." The hologram flickered and with a burst of static, shut down. Tarkin rose from his desk and stood before a large window in the room. The blood red sun of Coruscant was rising; bring life to a death filled night on a steel planet. Tarkin turned and walked from the room.

"Yes," he thought, "A new dawn is coming."

**_Hello again. I wasn't really sure how I felt about this chapter and I'm terrified of messing up Scout, but I think it turned out alright. At least, it sets up the rest of the chapters. Once again, all credit goes to George Lucas, Karen Traviss (Author of Republic Commando Series) and Sean Stewart. Also thanks to all of you for reviewing. Your thoughts on plot, content, grammer, and other stuff are greatly appreciated. _**


	11. Chapter 11 Retreat

**_A small warning to my fellow Star Wars fans; the following contains spoilers for the new Republic Commandos Book, Order 66. The next few may as well. Spoilers should be pretty small, but still..._**

Semreh walked calmly, trying to remain inconspicuous among the throngs of people. Checkpoints manned by clones had been set up throughout Coruscant, no doubt meant to catch Jedi trying to escape. Luckily, Scout and he now looked nothing like Jedi. After escaping the tunnel, they'd found themselves in one of the many abandoned alleyways of Coruscant. Quickly, they'd found a closed clothing store and broke in. Semreh at first felt a moral quandary about robbing an innocent storeowner. Then, Scout pointed out that they weren't really stealing. Technically, under one of the many new laws enacted by Palpatine, they were just procuring supplies for the greater good. So, Semreh hacked the security system and Scout and he raided the racks of the store, gathering wardrobes that screamed "not Jedi". Semreh had reluctantly donned an elaborate multi-colored jacket, with neon strips of orange and green. Semreh had scowled when Scout tossed it to him.

"I am not wearing this!" He'd said gruffly. Scout just laughed, teasing him.

"Come on, it was your idea to ditch our robes. This way, you'll be able to hide in plain sight." They continued to search through the pile, until Semreh found what he'd been looking for.

"Fine", he'd said, "but if I have to wear this, you have to wear this." He held up a flamboyantly long rainbow colored dress and red high heeled shoes. It was Scout's turn to glower angrily.

"Who in their right minds thought that that would sell?" Semreh laughed.

"It's supposedly all the rage in the Mid-Rim." Scout snorted and grabbed a grey jacket with purple fringe from the pile.

"With who, the color blind," She said as she went into a nearby dressing room. They continued to search the store, looking for supplies. The found a hiker's backpack and filled that with as many credits as they could from the register. Semreh also put their old robes and a different change of clothes in there, determined to get out of the abomination as soon as possible. Among the crowds, they certainly stood out, but no one would ever suspect they were Jedi. They waked for nearly an hour. As they began to near the spaceports, the clone troopers became more numerous and many were setting up checkpoints and locking down the spaceport. A large crowd had gathered outside one of the spaceports, civilians trying to escape Coruscant on the transports. A single officer stood above the clones, standing on an elevated platform. He was using a voice amplifier to project his voice over the cries of the crowd.

"Attention all civilians, the spaceport is under GAR control now. You are all ordered to return to your homes and remain inside. The Jedi have staged a rebellion and the city is under lockdown." A cry of shock rose from the crowd. They fell silent, shocked by the announcement. Scout and Semreh exchanged looks of shock and horror. That explained the attack at the officer continued.

"The Jedi Mace Windu attempted to assassinate the Chancellor in his own office. Other Jedi are attempting to sabotage the city and ambush civilians. Therefore, you are all ordered to return to your homes as quickly as possible, for your own protection." The crowd dispersed in less than 30 seconds.

"Well," Scout said in an amused voice. "It looks like we just got to the front of the line." She strode towards the officer, who had stepped down from the platform and was now issuing orders to several clones.

"No, Scout wait!" Semreh whispered loudly, but it was too late. She walked towards the officer, waving to get his attention. Semreh watched as she pointed at him, speaking urgently. The officer nodded and said something back to her that Semreh couldn't hear. Finally, Scout returned, a bright grin on her face.

"Well, the good news is, he's going to let us into the docking bay." Semreh stared for a moment, his mouth hanging open.

"How'd you manage to scam that!?" She smiled guiltily.

"That's the bad news. He kinda thinks we have a ticket for one of the freighters about to take off, so we've got to pick one and stowaway on it." She turned and sprinted towards the entrance. Semreh shouldered their pack, following.

"How'd you manage to convince him?" He asked running alongside her, "Did you use a mind trick on him?" Scout shook her head.

"Semreh, I can barely lift a pebble with the Force." She laughed, "No, I just told the officer that our parents were in there and on a freighter, and that we'd been separated in the chaos."

"And he just went and believed that?"

"No, but when I said we were Colonel Bracken's children, he certainly believed it."

"How'd you know Colonel Bracken was his superior?" Scout grinned.

"Semreh, half of these new officers don't know who their superiors are. I just picked a name that sounded professional. I'm sure somewhere along the chain of command, there's a colonel Bracken" Scout stopped in front of one of the entrances to a landing pad. Inside was a small shuttle, common for small time merchants and smugglers. The ramp was lowered, leaving the ship easily accessible. They walked stealthily towards the ramp, carefully looking inside. The ship looked empty except for boxes of supplies. Semreh went over to one of the cargo holds that lay along the wall. They were small cubbies that were designed to maximize the amount of supplies and goods they could carry. For some reason, most of them were empty.

"So, you think we should hide out in these?" Scout asked indicating the small cubbies. Semreh shook his head.

"No, if they're empty, the pilots probably planning to fill them. We should empty one of these and hide in them." He pointed at the crates stacked in the main area. Semreh walked over and, with Scouts help, lifted the heavy durasteel top. It fell to the floor with a loud clang.

"Someone probably heard that," he said swing on leg over the side. "Come on, jump ins-"he was cut off as Scout grabbed his arm and pulled him back from the box.

'What are you doing!" he whispered. He saw her pointing at the box. Inside, it was filled with thermal detonators, concussion and plasma grenades. Semreh realized he'd nearly hid in what basically amounted to a nuclear bomb.

"I think maybe the cargo holds were a better idea.' He said shakily. Scout snorted.

"Jeez, ya think." She stopped and listened for a second. "Someone's coming!" Semreh heard it too. Quickly, he hauled the top of the crate back into place while Scout dove into one of the small cargo holds. Semreh followed, diving in just as whoever was coming began waking up the stairs. He shut the metal door as tight as he could, but there was already little room left in the compartment. After a little rearrangement, the latch finally closed just as a figure came into view. Semreh watched the room from a small slit that probably functioned as an air hole for some poor creature. The figure was humanoid and slender. It walked slowly, the other was also human, but broader and more muscular. Between them they carried an enormous rectangular object. The grunted with effort as they walked into the middle of the ships hold. As they came into the light, Semreh groaned silently. The broader man wore clone trooper armor and had a blaster carbine hanging off his back.

"Great," he thought, "We pick a ship, and it's a clone commanded flying bomb. What else could go wrong?" The woman was young, and wore a flight suit common among most freighter pilots. She carried the crate over to the others, and then bent over, pressing her ear to it. She then spoke to the clone behind her, but what she said was lost on Semreh as an entire squad of four Clone Commandos entered the ship. He felt Scout's breath intake sharply. They wore heavy _Katarn-_class armor and had a variety of heavy and lethal weapons hanging from their belts. One of them, Semreh assumed it was the leader, took off his helmet and began speaking with the woman.

"We're really not entirely comfortable with this whole idea Ny. Couldn't we open the crate now?" Ny laughed as she turned and settled into the pilot's seat. Semreh heard and felt the engines roar to life as she began take-off.

"Cov, while I understand your worry, I gotta say, we can't take any chances. For all we know, we could be under surveillance right now." Semreh felt himself slide slightly as the ship rose upward, taking Scout and him with it. "And we certaintly don't want to be seen with contraband on our ship."

As they rose, something unexpected happened. The ship was jostled by turbulence. For the rest of the passengers, nice and secure in armor and seat belts, it was no problem. However, Scout and Semreh were jostled about until finally, Semreh's head banged on the top of the cargo hold. The sound reverberated in throughout the ship, surprisingly loud.

"What the hell." Ny said. "I thought I emptied those cargo holds. She placed the ship on auto pilot and walked towards them, flanked by Cov and another clone commando. The clones leveled their blasters as Ny ripped the latch open and the padawans tumbled out. Immediately, the clones turned to level an impressive array blasters and explosives at them. Semreh slowly raised his hand in a feeble wave.

"Hi guys..."


	12. Chapter 12 The Caesar

For a few hair raising seconds, nobody moved. The clones stood stock still; blasters leveled and fingers on their triggers. Ny watched the scene, mouth wide open. Semreh looked at the commandos and their many weapons and heavy _Katarn-_armor. Semreh had worked with them before and he knew that if they decided to fire, nothing would save him and Scout. Besides him, Scout had managed to ignite her saber and angled it towards the clones, ready to deflect their fire. For several moments, no one moved. Then Ny laughed.

"Well, looks like we have a few stowaways here." Semreh felt Scout lower her saber, though she maintained a ready stance. The clones around them didn't lower their weapons at all. If anything, a few looked murderously at the sight of Scout's saber.

"I say we shove them out an airlock." Cov said, "That's standard procedure on most ships." He moved forward a step, but Ny stepped in front of him.

"Now hold on", she said, "This is my ship, and I'll decide what we do with stowaways."She gestured towards the Jedi.

"The way I see it, they were in the same boat you were a while back, not given any choice in their destiny or life. You want to escape it, why shouldn't they." The who'd entered first with Ny stepped forward, resting his hand on the crate he'd helped carry in. Semreh recognized the kama he wore as one common among clone commanders.

"Besides", he added, "We've already got one fugitive, what's a few more." He pressed a few numbers into a lock on the crate, and it opened with a small hiss. He lifted the hatch and a round bulbous head, followed by a long cylindrical neck rose from the crate.

"Hello young padawans," a serene voice said, "It's good to see that a few others survived the attack." Semreh was taken aback. Stepping from the crate was Kina Ha, a mysterious Kaminoan Jedi master. Semreh knew very little about her. He knew that she'd been in hiding for many years on Coruscant before coming forward at the beginning of the Clone Wars. She quickly rose to the rank of master, having already mastered much of the Force. Semreh had earned something of a friendship with her when he met her while searching the Jedi archives for information. They'd talked on matters of philosophy and Semreh found her to be of exceptional intelligence.

"Master Kina Ha!" Semreh exclaimed. "It's good to see you!" Besides him, Scout finally extinguished her lightsaber and stepped forward. The clones lowered their weapons as well.

"If you are not hunting Jedi," she said to Cov, "Then what exactly are you doing? Why haven't you attacked us?" Cov scratched his chin, clearly considering how best to answer this. Finally he spoke.

"How about this? You just be grateful we don't attack you, and we'll be grateful that you don't ask questions." His right hand still rested on his holstered blaster, clearly ready for use. He then flinched as Ny backhanded him over the head.

"Why do you keep forgetting that this is my ship!" she said in an annoyed voice. "Now sit down and strap in." She turned to the Semreh and Scout.

"If you want to know what's going on, I'll have Kina Ha and Commander Levet fill you in, but we should do something about your leg first," she said indicating the blaster graze on Semreh's thigh.

"It's not bad," he assured her, "Just a reminder that clones carry really big guns." Ny chuckled.

"Either way, I think it'd be best to get that bandaged as soon as possible, if only because you're probably going to need that leg later. Oh, and welcome to the _Caesar._

Scout, Semreh, Kina Ha and Levet, the commander with the kama skirt, sat around the small table in Ny's equally small medical station. Technically it was the galley, but as Cov said, "Kitchen, operating table, pretty much interchangeable."

Levet was applying a small amount of bacta to Semreh's wound while reciting what had happened over the past 24-hours.

"The Republic is dead," he said bluntly, "It was officially dissolved a few hours ago when Palpatine declared himself Emperor." Scout stared, shocked at the news. She'd always admired the Chancellor for his actions against the Separatists, but this was going too far.

"He won't be able to do that." Scout said firmly. "Too many Senators would rebel against the idea. They'd be giving up their own power." Levet shook his head.

"No, they gave up their power already, gradually over the course of this war. With every decision they gave to Palpatine to decide, rather than voting on it, they gave up their power." Scout looked at Levet carefully. This clone seemed to know a lot about the happenings at the Senate.

"How do you know all this?" Levet stared down at as he finished patching up Semreh's leg.

"My former commander often confided in me about the politics. She trusted me with lots information and often confided in me her doubts about the war." Levet stood up, finished with his work.

"It's all true." Master Ha said, "I don't know the details, but I guess that Master Windu and the others attempted to halt Palpatine's grab for power. When they failed, the temple was invaded and the Jedi declared outlaws." Master Ha rose gracefully from her chair.

"Commander Levet, I wonder if we could have a moment alone." Levet looked like he may protest, but then left. Master Ha closed the door behind him. She turned to Scout and Semreh. For several moments, she was silent.

"I must tell you both something." She finally said gravely. "Something you may really not want to hear, but need to. The Jedi are dead. Too many died for our Order to ever rise again." Scout felt her stomach plummet. To hear a Jedi master, one whom for a few moments, had seemed like a beacon of hope for two lost padawans, was devastating.

"How can you say that!?" Scout said angrily. "We're still here. While we're alive, the Order has survived." She stood up quickly, fire burning through her veins.

"Surely other Jedi have survived. If we can find them, if we can get organized, we can fight this Empire, and we can win." Scout saw Semreh looking shocked at her angry speech, but she didn't care. She couldn't sit there while a revered master tore down their Order. Scout had her whole life known that she wanted to be a Jedi. The urge to become one was branded onto her bones, and she couldn't accept that her whole purpose for life could be taken away just like that.

"We swore oaths to defend the Republic and we can still do that. If we can, we must try to overthrow this Empire and restore the Republic and the Jedi. We should hit and hurt this regime in every way we can, everywhere we can." Scout stopped, chest heaving. Kina Ha stood, Kaminoan serenity undisturbed.

"Did either of you ever hear how I came to the Jedi temple." Semreh shook his head, apparently still numbed by Scout's outburst. Scout just continued to glare.

"I didn't think so." She sat back down, her hands folded neatly n her lap. "As you know, my people are skilled in the arts of genetics. Long ago, our world was flooded, turning it into the world you know of now. To survive, we had to master the art of natural selection, making sure those with positive traits propagated, and ensuring those with negative traits did not." Kina Ha sighed, as though remembering some distant memory.

"Sometimes, I wonder what happened to my race. Was all that really necessary? Is it now?" She pulled her mind back to the present.

"Any ways, I was a product of their genetic work. I was modified to belong to the space faring caste, given an extended life so I may search the galaxy. However, I also was granted an affinity to the Force and while wandering the galaxy, I was found by a Jedi master. I followed him for a while and he taught me many things about the Force before he finally died. After that, I wandered the galaxy until one day, I had a terrifying vision." Kina Ha closed her eyes, remembering some dark memory. Scout felt her anger slip for a second.

"It was terrible. I saw my home planet, which I hadn't seen for nearly a century, churning out dark warriors who reeked of the dark side and who I saw kill Jedi. After that, I hid on my planet, watching my people for many years. My people make armies and clones for many clients. I never suspected that one made for the Republic would be used to destroy the Jedi. I never…" Scout didn't know whether Kaminoans could cry from their great bulbous eyes, but Kina Ha seemed about to. She hung her head, grief overtaking her for a second.

"You must understand, I never suspected, I never would have guessed…" She raised her head, her serenity returning. "Once the war began, I returned to Coruscant and forgot my vision. I believed I had misinterpreted my vision. At the time, it seemed the greatest threat was the Confederacy's droid army. I never dreamed the Republic would be the one to destroy us.' From beside's Scout Semreh spoke softly.

"It was the perfect trap, an ambush the Jedi couldn't escape." He turned to Scout face dawning with realization. "Something isn't right about all this. There are things that don't make any sense. A Jedi called for the creation of an army that wiped the Jedi out? How is that possible unless there was a traitor in our midst?" Scout started. Suddenly many things that made no sense, many pieces of the puzzle, clicked. Scout felt like she was looking down on herself, as though she could see and feel everything in that small med lab.

"We did." She said quietly. Kina Ha and Semreh turned to look at her.

"When we were fighting in the temple, do you remember that cloaked figure that was fighting Master Cin Drallig?" Semreh nodded.

"Yeah, after the clones arrived they both left to fight elsewhere."

"Well, when he…killed Whie, something strange happened. In the moments before he died I felt as though I was Whie. I heard what he heard, felt what he felt. I saw… what he saw. In that moment, Whie managed to glimpse the face of the figure." Scout stopped here. She felt stunned by sudden realization. Why would he have saved her life? How could he be the traitor? Still, she had little doubt.

"Scout," Semreh said quietly. "Who was it? Was it the traitor?" Scout looked up, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"I don't know. His face was so different, so furious it was hard to tell, but I think it was Anakin Skywalker."

* * *

The room was quiet. Nobody said a word. Semreh's mind reeled. He knew Master Skywalker from reputation as a general. The padawans looked up to him for his daring exploits. The holonet named him "The Hero with No Fear" for his actions on Jabiim and Aargonar. He had risen quickly through the ranks, even being the youngest knight to ever be named to the Council. During all this, was he a traitor?

"It's not possible," Semreh said voice faint. "If Master Skywalker really is the traitor, he would have had to manipulate Master Sifo-Diyas into ordering the clones when he was just a boy."

"Unless Master Sifo-Dyas was the traitor." Master Kina Ha suggested. "If Master Sifo-Dyas betrayed us, it would explain a lot."

"But he was killed well before the Clone Wars even started." Scout said, "And someone had to be pulling the strings." They all sat for several minutes, lost in their own thoughts. Then Semreh spoke.

"I think we can assume that Anakin has betrayed us. Assuming that Scout's vision is true, Anakin was the one leading the attack on the temple. Still, he can't be the mastermind. This type of trap goes back to far. This type of trap is years in the making, maybe even before Anakin was born." He turned to Kina Ha.

"Master, where is this ship headed."

"To Mandalore," Master Ha replied. "There's supposedly a hideout there for refugees from the Empire."

"So why are we bringing clone troopers there." Scout asked. "Won't they reveal its presence?"

"Young padawan, you must understand Jedi and clone troopers are very much alike. Neither of us was allowed to choose our destiny. They were cloned for the sole purpose of fighting for the Republic, and we, by fate, are chosen to serve the Force and the Republic. Many clone troopers, especially the older ones and those who were made to be more independent, have realized this as the war dragged on. Of these, very few ever decide to defect or desert. Yet some do. Supposedly, many of them have been smuggled to Mandalore by a mysterious figure." Semreh felt one of his eyebrows rise.

"A mysterious figure?" He said skeptically. Kina Ha nodded.

"Ny has not yet seen fit to tell me his or her name, but he or she is probably related to the clone army in some way."

"And you think we'll be safe on Mandalore surrounded by mercenaries who kill for a living." Kina Ha shrugged.

"The Empire has very little power on that planet. Because it produces such skilled warriors, it's unlikely that the Empire would risk a full scale invasion, particularly this early in its creation."

"It's not a full scale invasion that worries me." Semreh said. "The Empire could try something more subtle than that. I think it's a good idea to keep moving."

"Moving around will only alert the Empire to your presence," Master Ha said. "You should stay on Mandalore and hide out. Live your lives in peace." Semreh turned and saw Scout looking at him. Kina Ha made sense. If Mandalore was safe, they should stay there. Still…

"Well, I'm not," Scout said as she stood up. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to keep the memory of our Order alive, and if I have to keep it alive be hurting the Empire, all the better." She stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her. Master Ha turned to Semreh.

"Is she always like that." Semreh smiled.

"In my experience, yes. But then, it hasn't exactly been a normal day has it." Master Ha nodded.

"So Semreh, what will you do? Will you do the sensible thing and stay on Mandalore, or will you charge into a battle you know you can't win?" Semreh was silent. His whole life he'd had a superior. A master. A teacher. Now, all alone in the Galaxy, he wanted to make the right choice. He thought about his experiences in the wars. He weighed his odds, comparing the Empires limitless resources to what he and Scout could do. He thought of every strategy he knew, of the battles he lost, of the friends who'd died. Suddenly he knew.

"Master Ha, do you remember the battle of Jabiim?" She nodded.

"Yes, it was a disaster for the Republic. Palpatine used it to help gain more control over the war."

"Yes, but it could've been much worse. You remember why much of the clone army there escaped, why Anakin Skywalker escaped?" Master Ha opened her mouth to respond, but Semreh interrupted. He could feel his blood beginning to boil. "It was because a group of masterless padawans stayed behind, fighting to the death to delay the droid army and Jabiimi militia for three days. They stemmed the tide and bought time for Republic transports to evacuate." Semreh looked down at his feet as he stood up.

"What you probably didn't know is that I was friends with many of those padawans, that I ate, drank, and lived side by side with them." Semreh began walking to the door. "I was not known as a very sociable. I preferred to read in the archives then build bonds. But Vabeesh and Aubrie Wyn were to padawans I truly could call my friends. I never forgave myself for letting them die there, in the mud of Jabiim, and I won't let their sacrifice be in vain." He opened the door, but stopped when Master Ha spoke.

"Understand what you're doing padawn. You both are about to cross the threshold into darkness." Semreh turned and flashed a grin at Master Ha.

"I know Master Ha, but Scouts determined to go and I'll be bored stiff on some backwater planet. So, I think I'll go with her and knock a few clone trooper heads, just for fun." He shut the door behind him.

"Besides," he said to himself, "at least she keeps things interesting."

**Hi again. Hope you enjoyed this one. It was meant to explain some things and to set up the rest of the plot. Also, because keep having trouble deciding what to do next, I wouldn't mind if people put some input on plot in their reviews. Please don't be offended if I don't necesarily use it. I have an ending already written, I just need to connect the** **dots. Please keep reviewing! **

**P.S. Just to explain the title, a Conclave is a meeting between Jedi during crisis. **


	13. Chapter 13 GAR Twilight

C-41 and CTA-132 walked through the streets. Though crowded, people were giving them more than enough room and no wonder. C-41 had retrieved his old comrade's flechette launcher, which was now strapped onto his back, along with a long barreled DC-15x sniper rifle. He carried extra ammo and supplies in a large bag beneath that that hung over the red _kama_ that had become a part of his armor. A small carbine rifle, the DC-15S, hung from a notch in his belt, along with two pistols, a multitude of explosives, a survival pack with knives, a hatchet, and other things necessary to survival, and a small mine that clone commandos used to blow up entire buildings. When CTA-132 had first seen the amount of supplies he carried, he'd laughed.

"Well, at least you cannon fodder are useful for something." He carried very little, just numerous knives hidden inside his armor and a small datapad he said had enough viruses to bring down a city's electronic systems. He clearly believed in traveling light, something C-41 had learned could get you killed.

"Either way, we're going to have a ship soon to haul everything. I'm sure we can pick one up from the Republic spaceport." CTA-132 nodded quietly. Intelligence had reported that an officer at a nearby spaceport had allowed two young Jedi to leave on a shuttle. Now, they were headed to interrogate the officer and find passage off planet. They continued walking, neither feeling the urge to talk. Both had made it clear they had no desire to work together; Fate alone had conspired to put them together. They passed several stores and cafés, stopping at none. They had a mission and nothing would divert them. However, something caught C-41's gaze as they passed one of them. The café had Holonet access and C-41 saw what appeared to be a deformed Palpatine speaking in the Senate.

"The Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe, and secure, society." Any other words were drowned out by the cries and cheers of the Senate, who's normally dignified appearance, had degenerated into a mob.

"Wait," he said to CTA-132 after a moment, "What does that make us now? Is the GAR disbanded?" The assassin kept walking.

"Does it matter?" he said over his shoulder, "Our jobs off planet and you're no longer part of the GAR." The realization hit C-41 like a charging bantha. He wasn't in the GAR. He was alone in the world, his brothers gone, his friends gone, and now his hope to serve his beloved GAR gone as well. There would be no more battles, no more terror. There'd also be no more brothers, no more Vode An, no more honor. The GAR he'd sworn to defend and the Republic he'd almost died for had been replaced by Palpatine's New Order. Now, all he had was Tarkin's mission and his hatred for Jedi.

"Come on fodder." CTA-132 called. C-41 shouldered his supplies. Luckily, that hate was all he needed to continue.

* * *

Lieutenant Halid greeted them outside his checkpoint at the spaceport.

"Gentlemen, welcome to my command." He gestured at the clones behind him. C-41 took an immediate dislike towards him.

"Damn mongrel officers." He thought. "All of them, just in it for the promotions." CTA-132 rushed passed the officer, not saying a word. The officer, taken aback, turned.

"Hey," he yelled, "Clone, come here!" CTA-132 kept walking. The Lieutenant looked unnerved as he turned to C-41.

"I was under the impression that clones obeyed orders." C-41 watched as CTA-132 began talking with several of the off duty clones. The lieutenant saw this as well.

"Hey", he yelled, "What are you doing?! Those are my clo-." He fell silent as CTA-132 blurred for a second, then appeared behind him.

"You were saying Lieutenant." He placed one of his wrist blades across the man's quivering throat.

"You know, I hate frontline troops." He continued quietly, looking at the lieutenent's startled troops. "Truly, I do. There always whining about how bad they've got it, about how we special ops troopers receive special treatment." He pulled the lieutenant closer, so his neck pricked the blade, and blood began to spill.

"But you know what I hate worse than them," He said, voice laced with malice, "Is a pompous mongrel officer who let's two Jedi escape right under his nose." The last words rose to an angry yell as he threw the officer forward. He lay there, breathing hard, one hand stemming the trickle of blood from his throat.

"Now, unless you want me to kill you," he warned simply, "I suggest you let us through and give us the Jedi's destination. Also, we'll be commandeering your fastest ship." The officer nodded and signaled for one of his soldiers to get on it. Several clones brought up records of ship departures on a nearby terminal while two more helped their commander to their feet.

"Rather aggressive aren't you." C-41 muttered to CTA-132.

"Got results didn't it." He countered. One of the clones by the terminal motioned for C-41 to come over.

"Sir, we need to know your operating numbers if we're to give you a ship for use."

"Sure, I'm C-41 and the assassin is CTA-132." The clones punched the numbers in while the lieutenant watched them sullenly.

"Um, Lieutenant," the clone at the terminal said, "Could you come here a moment." The lieutenant walked over and looked at the screen. Shock crossed his face, followed by anger. He turned.

"Their imposters!" he yelled drawing a small blaster from his side. "Open fire!"

The clones raised their rifles without hesitation, fire already appearing in their barrels. C-41 instinctively dove to the side, using a cargo barrel as cover.

"What the _shab_ are you doing?!" He yelled to the clones. He raised his carbine over the crate and fired blindly, not willing to expose himself. He noticed that the metal crate he'd ducked behind was slowly being melted by the barrage. He'd have to move eventually. Suddenly, their fire was redirected. CTA-132 had appeared behind to clones and had slashed out removing ones left leg, and the others right leg. As they fell, he slashed upwards, knives biting deep into their necks. The other clones had turned, all attention focused on him now. C-41 jumped over his crate, carbine firing. Two more of the clones fell as he ran towards them. About six were left now, plus the officer. C-41 charged, firing as he went. Another clone fell, chest armor crumpled and burned. Two yards away, he slid feet first into the nearest trooper. Caught by surprise, he fell on top of C-41 who rolled away, firing two blasts to finish him off. Meanwhile, CTA-132 had struck three more clones, which toppled missing hands and important leg tendons. They turned on the remaining two clones who closed in close to their commander.

Then, C-41 noticed something strange. Throughout all this, the clones had missed him every time. They had remained disciplined and organized, but they'd missed. CTA-132 moved, a blur, and a second later, the two clones toppled, missing heads. The lieutenant fired his small blaster, missed, and toppled, three knives buried to the hilt in his chest. He gasped hoarsely; looking up at the assassin with pleading eyes, then fell over dead. C-41 walked to one of the troopers, while CTA-132 moved towards the terminal. C-41 rolled the trooper onto his back so the faceless helmet stared towards the sky.

"Hmmmm," he thought, "That's what we look like when we die." Reaching down he reached to remove the trooper's helmet, indulging a suspicion of his. He gasped at what he saw. He didn't see a brother, a familiar face. Rather, this face was paler and held none of the characteristic hardness of the Jango clones. He walked over to another, removed the helmet and saw the same.

"CTA-132," he called urgently, "These aren't Fett clones!"

"What," he said in genuine surprise. He walked over, a saw the unfamiliar face.

"Different clones?" He asked uncertainly. C-41 nodded.

"Definitely not from Kamino. When surrounded by water for a long time, your skin should be affected in several ways. This trooper isn't." They stood for a moment, contemplating this sudden revelation.

"What does it mean if the Empire is starting to supplement us with different clones?" He thought anxiously.

"Come here," CTA-132 said quietly "There's something you need to see." C-41 followed him to the terminal.

"Look" the assassin said pointing. There on the screen were both their operating numbers, and in bold red letters next to the numbers was their status.

Deceased.

**_Once again, all thanks goes to George Lucas. Also, Thanks to you all for reviewing. I rely on your opinions to keep going. Tell your friends!_**


	14. Chapter 14 Secret Pawns Authors Note

**Okay, I'm taking an opportunity to settle some things that have been bothering people about this story. Of course, I don't want to bore you so I also wrote this shorter story (oddly enough, once I started writing it, i couldn't stop and it kinda got outta control). I just want to go over the Kaminoan Jedi thing, which has been bothering me to. Unfortunatley, it contains spoilers for the Republic Command book, Order 66, so I'll put it on the bottom after this chapter. If you don't want to read it, you don't have to, but I think it might help clear things up. Thanks.**

Tarkin sat at his desk, calmly and efficiently working his way through stacks of orders. Many were deployment orders for the various ships and armies, being deployed to the various worlds to maintain Imperial order. Of course, Tarkin could have had one of his many underlings do the work, but he felt that his own signature added a personal touch; a reminder to commanders that the Empire was watching its ambitious little soldiers.

"After all," he thought, "some of these commanders could be troublesome if they rebelled." He didn't worry too much though. The Emperor had plans for such traitors, most of which ended with violent, quiet, deaths. Then again, that was Imperial Intelligences job and Tarkin preferred to keep his hands out of that dirty laundry. A beeping from his intercom caught Tarkin's attention.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Governor Tarkin," his secretary said, "Armand Isard is here to speak to you. Shall I let him in?"

"Well, speak of the devil." He thought.

"Yes, let him in." The doors slid open. Armand Isard, the director of Imperial intelligence, strode in, the picture of confidence. Perhaps overly confident.

"Good day Governor." Armand said.

"Evening director," He responded. "How goes your work?" Armand chuckled grimly.

"You know, the occasional planet threatening to secede, a leader who gets a little too outspoken. Nothing to out of the ordinary." Tarkin rolled his eyes.

"No, I mean, how goes your _work_. Your real work." Armand coolly pulled a small holodisk out of his jacket.

"That's actually what I'm here to talk to you about," he said handing Tarkin the disk. "We have many pursuit teams on the trail of Jedi who escaped Order 66, but I need you to give copies of these to your commanders. They contain details on the various Jedi and their appearances." Tarkin activated the holodisk and began sifting through the list of Jedi.

"Shaak Ti, K'Kruhk, Tholme. Why, quite a few high ranking Jedi seem to have escaped. I was under the impression that the majority of the Order was destroyed." Armand shrugged.

"Yes, the majority was. However, many of the Jedi's bodies were unaccounted for and this contains only the ones who have supposedly been sighted. We've managed to narrow most of these cases down to the most plausible." Tarkin placed the tiny disk into his desk for later while Armand scowled disapprovingly. While Tarkin knew that he was within Emperor Palpatine's inner circle, he also knew that there was something mysterious about the Emperor, something that didn't add up. He decided to try to worm answers out of Armand.

"Governor," Armand said disapprovingly, "the Emperor has made it clear that that intelligence is to get to all commands as quickly as possible. I think it would be wise to distribute it as soon as possible." Tarkin sighed dramatically. He truly felt that the Emperor was over exaggerating the threat of the Jedi. Dispersed across the galaxy and hated by its residents thanks to Imperial propaganda, they presented a small threat to the vast Empire. When he voiced his opinion to the director, he only shook his head.

"You know, I am something of a history buff. I find that by studying the past of an enemy, you can often predict their actions today." Tarkin nodded coolly.

"Yes, of course, and an admirable past time and theory." Armand looked at Tarkin, as though evaluating him.

"Do you know that the Jedi have been purged before?" Armand asked.

"I recall reading something like that. By another order of Force users called the Sine or something." Tarkin knew well the history of the Sith, but wished to test Armand.

"Sith," Armand corrected, "and if you know that, then you know how resilient their order can be; how dangerous." Armand leaned in closely, almost nose to nose. "You know that the Jedi hold power that could topple the Empire if united. If the Empire is to survive, then not a single Jedi can be allowed to escape." Tarkin nodded reluctantly, but…

"I still am not sure I agree with you." Armand stood to his full height, cleary trying to intimidate him.

"Really? What flaws do you see with the Emperor's plan?" Tarkin knew he was on dangerous ground now, challenging the Emperor's beliefs. Men had been killed for less.

"No, not questioning his beliefs, merely implying why we're wasting valuable resources and agents on even the Jedi children. Surely they could be put to better use?" Armand looked at Tarkin hard, who sat calmly, face an enigmatic mask. Finally, Armand answered.

"Tarkin," he said no longer using the honorary governor title, "Jedi children grow up into Jedi. We must not give them that opportunity." He smiled.

"And don't worry about resources. We've borrowed from Special Operations and other departments to deal with the overflow. We have plenty of agents and resources." Tarkin nodded in understanding. It was true, the Empire, with its unlimited resources, could afford to waste a few soldiers chasing Jedi. Still, Tarkin felt a suspicion churning in his gut.

"There's more isn't there." He said. "There's something you're not telling me." Armand hesitated.

"Armand," Tarkin continued sternly, "Theoretically, I am your superior in this government. Now, I can order you to tell me what you know, or you can tell me on your own." The two men stared at each other, two men of power, storms raging against each other.

"Knowledge is power Tarkin. Why should I share my power with you?" Tarkin leaned back steepling his fingers.

"Because, the Empire is going to change the galaxy. New people will rise to power, others will be cast down." Tarkin smiled. "I suggest you side with me."

Armand was quiet. He was trapped. He was a very powerful man, very trapped man. No doubt he hated it.

"Very well Tarkin. I'll level with you. There are rumors going through the ranks of the clone army that they don't have to continue fighting, that there are ways to leave the Imperial army without consequences." Armand looked disturbed now. "In fact, some have gone missing, though the official records say otherwise."

"Someone out there is helping clones leave the army. Oh, they cover their tracks well, but it has been noticed. In particular, several different clone commando units have gone missing, along with a few ARC troopers. If we don't stop this now, we could have mass desertions on our hand." Tarkin nodded. A mass desertion would be a major threat to the stability of the Empire.

"How does following the Jedi help find missing clone?" Armand smiled slyly.

"Whoever is sheltering the clones is an enemy of the Empire and will need protection…" he said leadingly.

"And Jedi are going to need places to hide." Tarkin finished. "You plan to crush both rebellions with one blow." Armand nodded.

"Well," Tarkin said, "I must say, this is a clever plan. I really didn't expect such subtlety." Tarkin took the holodisk back out.

"Now, you've leveled with me, so I'll level with you." Tarkin stood. "Did you think the Empire wished to remain dependent on Kamino for its soldiers forever? Did you ever wonder why, in the last few days of the war, we were suddenly winning on fronts that had been stalemates for months and months?" Tarkin smiled at Armand quietly.

"Yes, we received reinforcements from Kamino just in time." Tarkin shook his head.

"No Director, we received reinforcements from Arkanian Microtechnologies facilities on Centax -2." Armand looked shocked.

"That's impossible! How did I not know about this?!" Tarkin smiled.

"Looks like you aren't as powerful as you thought."

"The Emperor knew better then to rely on the Kaminoans," Tarkin continued, " so he commissioned the creation of another army, an army that can be grown and trained quicker, if less effectively. While not as well trained as our Mandalorian trained Kamino clones, they are grown in Spaarti cylinders and reach maturity within a year. They will gradually replace the Fett clones until we are completely independent from Kamino. Then, this army will be used to maintain order throughout the Empire." Armand looked stunned.

"So, when several of my agents reported massive discrepancies in the budget…" Tarkin grinned. The man was beginning to detect the dots.

"The Emperor foresaw issues with the Kaminoan's fickle loyalty. He planned to use these clones, making the Empire completely independent. This, in addition to the recruitment efforts on member planets, will create the largest military the galaxy has ever seen." Tarkin leaned back on his desk, allowing his words to sink in. Armand looked annoyed by this information, probably because it had been kept from his own agency. Tarkin knew he shouldn't be too surprised. Palpatine himself had probably hindered the investigation.

"So," Tarkin whispered, adding drama to his words, "that begs the question, why is Chancellor Palpatine bothering to hunt down clones who he's going to replace anyways? Any thoughts Armand?"

"No, but I'd like very much to find out." Armand walked out of the room, no doubt intent on gathering knowledge. After all, knowledge is power. But first, he turned.

"Governor, thank you for informing me of this. I have no doubt that this information will save many lives." He left, the doors sliding behind him.

Tarkin returned to his work, gently smiling to himself. In politics, tearing enemies down while raising you up was optimal, and while this small alliance he'd formed with the director would benefit them both for now, in the end, Armand would lose it all.

**Spoiler alert for Republic Commando Order 66 and Republic Commando True Colors**

**Hi again. Now, I said earlier in this story that I was going to try to keep this as canonical as possible, and I've so far been okay at it. But, I kinda was blindsided when Republic Commando Order 66 came out while I was writing it. Before that I'd never heard of Kina Ha, the Kaminoan Jedi. Unfortunatley, the RC66 version of Scout's escape conflicted with the one I was writing (explaining the lengthy period between updates). In theirs, she (P.S. she's just mentioned) escaped along with Kina Ha (Who ends up being essential to the plot, so I couldn't just kick her out) on a ship piloted by Ny. In order to remain as canonical as possible, I had to squeeze Kina Ha in there. I know it seems unlikely, but she is, according to wookipedia, canonical. I suppose the reason Jocasta Nu didn't know about them is because before the clone wars started, she remained hidden. Believe me, I wish I didn't even bother to put her in, but I really wanted to remain as canon as possible sooooo, my hand was forced.**

**Now, another thing I want to adress is the clone assassins. I know they were made for the video game, but they were also mentioned in Republic Commando True Colors, as being clones sent to kill other clones who deserted, which I wanted to incorporate into this story.**

**Okay, this one is really my bad. In Chapter 13, I don't think I really made it clear that the clones that attack them were clones, but not from Kamino. I really think I should have made that more clear and I apologize. Still, I think I rectified it above.**

**Now, I have a one more thing to say. Don't let my explaining this discourage you from reviewing and pointing problems. I had a lot of fun trying to weasel my way out of them and even more fun listening to your comments. I'm thrilled you all seem to enjoy this story and will continue to write it. Also, two kinda important announcments. 1, I'm thinkin' I may change the name if possible. In my original plot, the name made sense, but I've had to change some things around since then. I don't know....Okay, 2 is that I'm kinda planning a spin off (related to this story) that will probably be introduced later. I just want to know, show of hands, who would read it? and who knows about the Knights of the Old Republic games? **

**Riiiight, thank you all for reading. I'm sorry I had to squeeze this note in here. It probably goes against some rule or something, but this is the best way I know to tell everyone. Keep reviewing and I'll keep writing. Special thanks to Yellow 14 and Elemarth for reviewing and pointing out these things. **


	15. Chapter 15 Planning a War

Semreh sat in the middle of his room, cross legged, hands resting gently on his knees. He was finding his center again, trying to see what path he should take now. The hum of hyperspace dimly buzzed in the background of his mind. He sat, focusing his mind on the back of his own head. It was a meditation technique he used. He'd focus all his thought and concentration onto that point, until he felt his mind lift away from his body. It was calming and after the events of that day, a good meditation was what he needed. More importantly, he needed to decide. Would he follow Scout to war? Would he throw himself into the conflict, knowing full well all they would do was bring down the wrath of the Empire? Or would he do the Jedi thing and stay on Mandalore, cultivating plants and raising life? It was a troublesome choice.

"One the one hand," he thought, "Kina Ha is right. A Jedi's path shouldn't be constant war. We need to contemplate the Force and, more importantly, how we didn't see Palpatine's betrayal coming." While in the temple, he'd spent much of his time in the archives, and knew the ancient Force users had ways to mask their presence and intentions from the Force. He also knew that several of the modern Jedi had rediscovered this technique. Yet, not even they could shield their intentions from the entire Jedi Order like Palpatine did. And then there was the issue of Anakin. That traitor to the Jedi was probably the greatest threat to the remnants of the Order.

"If Palpatine sends anyone to hunt us down," Semreh thought, "it will be him. His knowledge of the Order will negate any advantages we'd have, and neither Scout nor I are strong enough to fight a fully fledged Knight."The Empire also had an endless supply of troops, money, and support from the hundreds of thousands of worlds, each of which would hunt them down. Anti-Jediism was at an all time high, so wherever Scout decided to carry on her war, it would need to either be sparsely populated or pro-Jedi. Semreh knew finding pro-Jedi planets shouldn't be too hard. Finding one that could overcome their fear of the Empire and shelter them, would be nearly impossible. All these things piled up against her little crusade, casting a shadow of assured failure.

On the other hand, honor was an important concept to Semreh. As a child, he'd been taught that dedicated service to a cause was one of the greatest things a Jedi could do. From the beginning of the Clone Wars, Semreh threw himself into the study of military strategy, determined to defend the Republic he'd sworn an oath to. He was still bound to that oath, though this seemed like a small reason to go to war, but then, another thought, crossed Semreh's mind.

"If I don't go, Scout will still leave alone, I can feel it. And she will die. After all, no one can defy an empire alone, not even a Jedi." He thought of Aubrey lying in the mud of Jabiim and his master's broken body in the garden of the temple. "And no more women are going to die because of me."

It sounded sexist, but Semreh always felt an innate primal urge to protect women. He couldn't explain it, and after the death of his master, he didn't think he could stand to lose anymore friends.

"Friend?" a small voice in his head whispered, "What friend? You've only known her for a short time. Oh sure, you've had they occasional lesson together and seen each other in the hallway, but is that the person you want to give your life for?" Semreh shut the voice out, knowing it was a very un-Jedi like thought, despite the grain of truth in it. Semreh's eyes snapped open as the door behind him hissed open. In stepped Scout, dressed in her old Jedi robes and tunic, free from the grim of the sewer.

"Robes are done," she said tossing him his own brown and tan robes. She turned silently, obviously still furious over his reluctance to fight back against the Empire.

"I'm going with you!" he said before she left the room. Scout turned, a broad smile on her face.

"What made you change your mind?" She asked curiously. Semreh gathered the robes and rose to his feet.

"Mostly, I'm going to make sure you don't go and get yourself killed." He smiled as she flushed angrily. Scout opened her mouth to retort, but Semreh interrupted her.

"But also, it's because I know what you're going through. I lost my master to the Empire, while you lost your… friend, Whie." He suspected they were more than that, but didn't want to invade on a matter so personal.

"I know the anger you must feel, and I know how badly you probably want to hurt the Empire. But if we do this, we do it together and I want to be included in your decision making. No running off to battle fifty clones troopers alone. Okay?" Scout looked like she might argue for a second, then smiled and shook Semreh's hand.

"Good. Now, let's get planning."

* * *

Ny sat back in her pilots chair, stretching her arms above her head. Next to her, Kina Ha sat, a quiet, calming presence in the otherwise empty cockpit. They both watched on a small monitor as the two young padawans talked together about their plans.

"They're leaving." Kina Ha said certainly. Ny nodded.

"Yep, looks like it." She leaned forward to check the instruments of her consol. "Think they'll be alright?"

"They'll die." Kina said sadly.

Ny sighed. "But will they be alright?" Kina sat back, closing her bulbous eyes. Calm radiated from her.

"I can't say, but I certainly don't like their odds." She opened her eyes and turned to Ny again. "Is there any way Skirata can keep them on Mandalore once we get there?" Ny shook her head, chuckling slightly. She'd told Kina the name of the Mandalorian who was setting up the hideout, but still wasn't keen on telling the padawans.

"In case you haven't noticed, Mandalorians aren't too keen on Jedi. Leaves a bad taste in their mouth. Besides, Kal's going to do what's best for his boys, and having the mortal enemies of the Empire around doesn't fit in that category." She cocked her head towards Hina Ka. "Matter of fact, it might be good for me to talk to him first before you meet him. He's not too keen on Kaminoans either."

"Why's that?" Hina Ka asked curiously. "We generally keep to ourselves."

Ny nodded. "Yeah, I don't know the details, but I really think combining two things he has a… distaste for and sending it to him unexpected… well, let's just say you'd get to try some new ways to eat through a tube."

"I'll be sure to remember that." She stared forward for awhile, entranced by the blurred stars in front of them. Ny felt unnerved by her quiet.

"Sooooo," she began, "Why aren't you going with them? Isn't this your fight to?" Kina Ha looked down at the floor.

"My part in this war is over. I failed to see the attack coming and failed to protect the temple." She looked up and far away, as though her answers lay in some far off galaxy.

"I will live out the rest of my life in exile." Ny stared at her hard.

"You're going to run away?" She said accusingly, "Flee while those children fight your war for you." Hina Ka's shoulders sagged slightly.

"What would you do if the death of every person who you'd been close to was on your shoulders?"

* * *

Ny guided the ship gently into the docking bay, skillfully avoiding the narrow sides. She stood up as the shuttle settled gently on the ground of Mandalore. Behind her, a rapid clicking followed as the clones and Jedi unbuckled themselves. Scout rolled out of the seat and ran to the refreshers.

"Turbulence." Semreh explained as the sound of retching came from the refreshers. Ny nodded. Halfway through the atmosphere, they'd hit a storm that had rocked the_ Caesar_. It was a good ship, but it wasn't really that big.

Outside, the clones and Semreh started unloading the ship. As far as Semreh could tell, they were all identical steel crates, probably all filled with weapons and explosives. As they began to finish unloading, Scout came out looking pale and annoyed. The work was hard, but Semreh needed something to distract him from the day's events. Either way, he was just glad to get out of that jacket. As the Stars as his witness, he'd never let something like that happen again. He preferred the simple Jedi robe and tunic he had now.

"I really hate that ship." She said shakily. Semreh chuckled slightly, but was preoccupied by the village they'd landed in. It was simple, with no extravagant houses or enormous buildings. Everything was designed to look natural, a camouflage against airborne attacks. In the streets, both armored and unarmored Mandalorians walked about, some packing enough fire power to take down capital ships.

"Wow, this isn't Coruscant." Semreh said with a smile. "Kinda the polar opposite." Ny nodded.

"I'm going to go speak to… the boss." She said. "Hopefully, he'll let you guys hang around for a while." Semreh was silent. They still hadn't told her that Scout and he weren't planning to stick around too long. Ny walked towards a landspeeder followed by Levet, who had taken off his trousers and now wore simple farmer trousers.

"I've worn armor long enough", he'd said to Semreh, "My former commander told me about farming. It sounded like something I'd like. A good challenge." As they loaded into the speeder, Scout and Semreh returned to the ship. They had plans to make.

"Two Jedi aren't going to make a big difference to the Empire." Semreh said. "But if we can find a system that is friendly to us or hates the Empire, we might be able to gather a force to oppose the Empire."

"But we can't endanger ordinary citizens," Scout argued. "That would make us as terrible as the Empire. Our primary mission should be to find Jedi and gather them. Then, we can start a guerrilla war and sabotage the Empire."

"No," Semreh said firmly. "Our only advantage right now is that it's going to be hard for the Empire to track us. If we start gathering Jedi, it will make it that much easier for them to find us." Semreh pulled out a small star map that showed much of the galaxy. When he activated it, small planets sparkled against the dark space, small candles in the night.

"Most of the core planets are well under Imperial control, so starting our efforts there would be suicide. And while Sep worlds may be sympathetic to us, Imperials already know about most of those resistance groups and are already probably trying to stamp them out. Going there would only draw attention to us. So, our best options are worlds that stayed in the Republic during the Clone Wars, but are against this current regime and as far away from the core as possible." Semreh pressed a button on the side of the Star map, attempting to narrow search results. "Luckily, I had Jocasta Nu out fit this map with a list of planets friendly to the Republic, particularly those in the outer rim. I figured it would come in handy if my master and I ever were trapped in on a mission and needed to hide out somewhere. She also made it so it connected with the Holonet, meaning it could update itself with important articles and news."

The thought of Jocasta slammed into him. She'd been one of his closest friends, always in the library, ready students learn from the archives she was so proud of. Sadness filled him. It was she that first led Semreh to the history section of the library, where he immediately fell in love with volumes and volumes of old holodisks, holobooks, and even ancient manuscripts. They taught him much, from ancient battle tactics he used in the Clone Wars to meditation techniques that allowed him to better connect himself to the Force. The grief of it threatened to overwhelm him, but he couldn't break down. Not now, not in front of Scout and certainly not after lasting this long. Pushing his emotions down, he continued.

"We have a few options at least. The Naboo has always been helpful to the Jedi and they have a trained security force that we might convince the Queen to lend us. Another option is Alderaan, though I hear they are beginning to adopt a neutral pacifism policy."

Scout snorted derisively

"Neutral! How can anyone remain neutral in the Empire? What could Bail Organa be thinking?"

"I'm sure he has his reasons for trying to remain under the radar." Semreh assured. "Remember, in the end, everyone is going to look after their own, even us Jedi."

Scout nodded thoughtfully. "Any other worlds that might help us?"

"Well," Semreh said closely examining the map, "Melida/Daan seems to be friendly. Obi-Wan Kenobi helped them end there civil war many years back. Since then, they've begun to rebuild themselves. I suspect their current government would be very grateful to the Jedi. They may also decide to blow new sets of wholes into us. Who knows anymore?"

"Why wouldn't they be happy with Imperial rule then?" Scout asked. Semreh place a finger on the holographic planet and a list of data was pulled up.

"I don't think they'd be particularly happy or unhappy either way, but they managed to fend of Separatist attacks by themselves, so an Imperial garrison hasn't been deployed there yet. It's only a matter of time though…" Semreh zoomed back out, looking for more possible candidates. Finally, he found one.

"Here's a place that is already on the verge of rebellion. Perfect." Semreh said with a wide grin.

"What's it called?" Scout asked anxiously.

"Vorzyd V."

Scout stared at him, dumbstruck. "You're kidding me."

"Nope, I never joke", he said chuckling. He brought up an information screen for the planet. "It seems the Emperor has decided the planet's highly profitable gambling industry, thus making the Prime minister, a certain Kalasaad Wiotzu, madder than an Aqualish forced in the same room as a Mon Calamari." Semreh sensed a faint disturbance in the Force. He reached, searching in the Force and was surprised to feel unease emanating from Scout.

"What's wrong Scout?" he prodded gently, "Is Vorzyd V not the right choice?" Scout shook her head, but her face betrayed her upset.

"It's not that the planet doesn't work. It's just… I was found by the Jedi on Vorzyd V. My parents were poor and begged them to take me so I could have a better life." She looked around at the sparse village filled with ferocious warriors. "I wonder if they suspected something like this would happen."

"I'm pretty sure this isn't exactly what they had in mind." Semreh said dryly. "If Vorzyd V is a problem, we can always pick a different planet." But Scout shook her head.

"No, it sounds like this planet will support us, so I can't let my personal feelings get in the way."

"All the same, maybe it would be a good idea to visit as many of these planets as we can. If we can form them into a coalition against the Empire, we may just have enough strength to draw the Empires attention away from the other Jedi who are trying to escape."

"And it says here that Vorzyd V is a member of a powerful alliance called the Commonality." Scout said excitedly reading over Semreh's shoulders. "If we can convince the whole alliance to join us…"

"Then we could really put up a fight." Semreh said easily. Scout frowned though.

"Semreh, you keep saying we can put up a fight or delay the Empire, but I don't here you say we can win. Don't you think we can win?" Semreh hesitated, knowing that the truth was they couldn't possibly stand up to the battle hardened clone army and its massive fleets.

"Scout, at this point, just surviving is winning. We'll be lucky to get out of this plot alive, but maybe, just maybe, we can keep a war going on out here, use guerilla tactics, and hit their supply lines so they have to send more ships out to our little force. If we can keep them out here for a while, maybe some of the more resistant worlds, like Kashyyk, will rally their forces, creating an avalanche of rebellion. And believe me; the last thing this exhausted clone army wants to do now is to be putting down multiple rebellions across the galaxy." Semreh ended his little speech just in time. He saw the headlights of a speeder approaching them, with Ny and an old man dressed in sand gold Mandalorian armor. In the back seat a helmeted man dressed in similar armor, though his was dark green and camouflaged, sat resting his hand on his heavy blaster rifle. Semreh quickly deactivated the hologram and went out to meet the three with Scout in tow.

"My my," the sand gold Mandalorian said in a deep voice. He seemed to have a naturally fatherly quality to him, though Semreh knew from fighting them in the Clone Wars they were deadly fighters. The man clearly noticed his tension. He laughed.

"Relax son. I'm not going to hurt you." He looked intently at the two, evaluating them. Then he turned to Ny. "You said you saved three Jedi, including one who's of particular interest to me. Where's the Kaminoan?" Ny opened her mouth to answer, but Scout interjected.

"She went to the cantina with the rest of the Clone commandos." The Mandalorian turned, every step threatening. Ny held her breath while the green garbed Mandalorian shifted his rifle to a more ready position.

"When I speak, it would be wise to let me get the answer I want from who I want." Scout stared back at him, face pale, but clearly refusing to back down. Semreh decided to intervene before someone got hurt.

"We seek your protection Mr…." The man turned, and laughed heartily. The fatherliness was back.

"Skirata, Kal Skirata." He turned to Ny who had begun breathing again. "Looks like we have a couple of _mirdala_ Jedi on her hand." He poked a finger at Scout. "I like this one especially. Should've called her _atin_. Shame one of my boys got it first."

Ny laughed while the other Mandalorian stood quietly, fingering his rifle. Semreh felt uneasy around him. Despite having met virtually no Mandalorians in his career as a Jedi padawn, this man seemed strangely familiar. He snapped his attention back as Kal began talking to Ny.

"Get our boys into some speeders and get them to the compound, but keep it discreet." Kal looked around slightly nervous. "The less people that see us, the better. Not all Mandos are above selling out a fellow man." Ny nodded and rushed to the cantina.

"Alright," Kal said rubbing his hands together. "It's late, and I tend to kill things if I don't get my beauty sleep. Everyone load into the speeder." The Mandolorian got into the front with Kal while Scout and Semreh squeezed into the back. As the speeder began to spin off into the night, Semreh felt Scout gradually fall asleep, her head finally resting on his shoulder with the sound of gentle snores. Semreh didn't mind. The feeling of companionship felt good after the events of the pass two days, and he had many thoughts to distract him. For instance, why was that Mandolorian so damn familiar?

**Quick note, thanks to the reviewers, your opinios are greatly appreciated. A quick warning. I changed the name of chapter 13. I thought it was kinda wierd to have a conclave on a ship, so I decided to change it. Thanks again!**


	16. Chapter 16 Conclave on Mandalore

**_Ahhh, It's good to be back. Sorry for not writing for a while, but I busted my knee and had to do some surgery. I wrote, but, thanks to the wonderful world of Vikadin, It was mostly incoherant babble. So, I modified it into this, and, if i may say so myself, it turned out rather nicely. So, without further adue, Chapter 16._**

**_P.S I've also started writing the Spin off, but I can't release it until it comes to a part that corresponds to this Story_**

Kal sat back, putting his boots up on a table. Things were looking up for the Mandalorians. Spar had agreed to masquerade as the heir of Jango Fett a week ago, in an attempt to give the Mando Clans some sense of unity, and now they sat together among friends, trying to decide a future course of action. Also in the room were several prominent Mandalorians, including Fenn Shysa, Ordo Skirata, Kal's adopted son and former Null Arc trooper, Walon Vau, Spar, a former Arc trooper who gought for the Confederacy, and Jedi turned Mandalorian, Bardan Jusik. None of them wore helmets, a sign of good faith among the Mandalorians. Vau was rubbing his pet shrill Mird's head as it slobbered happily over his black armor. The animal gave off a rank smell that made Kal crinkle his nose in disgust, but he couldn't get distracted now. There was too much to decide and not enough time. Also with them was Ny, who was helping to shuttle refuge clones for Kal.

"We need time to organize and resupply." Fenn said, "And more importantly, we need to lie low for a while. Regroup. Since the Mandalorian Protectors were wiped out, we don't have a sizable organized army to speak of." He looked exhausted, with shadows under his eyes and heaviness in his words.

"I agree" said Vau. "If the Empire realizes that we're helping clones escape, it won't matter if they're free. They'll all be dead soon." Spar nodded. He was doing the proper thing and listening to the opinions of all his advisers before passing judgment. Despite his…unbalanced behavior, Kal was beginning to feel confident in his ability to lead.

"Also", Vau continued, "I'm still a little unclear as to why we're harboring Jedi fugitives. They brought this on themselves. They were serving the Republic blindly, sending our own boys to spill Mandalorian blood. Why should we help them?" When Vau said our boys, he was referring to the clones and clone commandos that he and Kal had trained on Kamino. Kal pulled his feet off the table. His shattered ankle was still bothering him a little despite the surgery and medication he took. Grunting he leaned forward, looking intently at Vau.

"Listen Vau, the Jedi were in pretty much the same position as our boys. They haven't had a choice in their life's course, forced to become child soldiers because of this war." He pointed his finger at Vau, jabbing him to emphasis his point. "Now, you tell me why we shouldn't bring them in?"

"Because they will draw the Empire here." Said Spar, speaking for the first time in the argument. "Because, Ordo tells us that according to what General Zey said before he died, Palpatine is a Sith Lord who will stop at nothing to kill the Jedi. Just like the Jedi qanted to destroy him. It's personal. And, because we have to take care of our own. In the end, our loyalty is to the Mandalorians, not to a couple of Jedi who show up here after wiping out my troops." Kal shook his head. He could tell Spar was still embittered over the loss of his troops in a Republic ambush towards the end of the Clone Wars. Only he, Fenn, and another Mandalorian had survived.

"Spar, listen to yourself. These are kids we're talking about. We can't-"

"I recall that it was Jedi kids that killed Etain on Coruscant Kal. From what I hear, you and your Commandos didn't show much mercy to them."

Kal winced. Etain had been a Jedi commander who'd married one of Kal's boys; the Clone Commandos he'd trained called Omega Squad, all of whom he'd officially adopted as his sons, in addition to several Arc troopers he had trained. She'd leapt in front of a Jedi who was trying to escape by cutting his way through a clone check point, trying to save the clone's life. Her death had driven Omega Squad into a fury that lead to the death of many Jedi in those streets. They eventually managed to get off planet, but had been forced to leave two of their own behind, trapped in the Imperial garrison. Kal now regretted letting his emotions get the better of him. Perhaps if he hadn't been so racked with grief, he'd have gotten all his boys of Coruscant.

"That was different. These kids-….I can't-." Kal suddenly realized he didn't know what to say. Why should he endanger his own adopted sons for a few padawns he hardly knew? Sensing his distress, Ny spoke up.

"I don't think this is a choice any of us actually have to make." She said calmly. "I those two talking on one of my security cameras on our way here, and it looks like they're planning to leave as soon as possible."

"Why?" Kal asked curiously. Ny shrugged.

"According to the tape and what master Ha told me, they want to fight the Empire." Spar and Fenn snorted while Kal just stared incredulously.

"Those two want to fight the Empire?" He said with a shocked voice.

"Impossible." Fenn said. "Nobody can fight the Empire at this point and win. Maybe in the future if enough planets decide to rebel, but right now there's too much support for Palpatine. Most of the Core Worlds follow him willingly and those that don't fall asleep next to garrisons of thousands of clone troopers. There's no way they can win."

"But maybe they can serve our purpose." Spar said quietly. Everyone turned to the new Mandalore.

"What do you mean?" Ny demanded. "Are you suggesting we use them?" Spar shrugged.

"It's a gizka eat gizka galaxy Ny. We all agreed that we need time to rebuild our forces and that unless we lie low; the Empire will come after us, if only because we have a reputation as warriors. I mean we trained their army. And if that happens, then the last hope at freedom for your boys is gone, along with the hopes of thousands of other troopers. If we keep harboring the Jedi, the Empire will eventually track them down; along with the clone troopers we've hidden here. But if we let these padawns go, if we give them a nudge in the right direction, give them the ability to start a real rebellion, and without joining it, then we might just be able to divert the Empire's attention long enough to rebuild our forces."

Silence followed Spar's speech, everyone contemplating the idea, weighing the risks against the consequences. Kal hated to admit it, but Spar was right. Any Jedi here would eventually draw Imperial agents, and then Imperial troopers, and without the Mandalore Protectors, they would be defenseless against them. Mandalorians would fight, but there would be too few and they would die in a war of attrition.

"We don't have a navy to speak of," Fenn began softly, "and our only organized army was wiped out a couple months ago. I'm sorry Kal, but this looks like our best option."

Vau nodded. "It's a good plan, and if it keeps the Imperials off our _shebs_ for a few years, well, I'm gain." Spar looked at his councilors as each of them nodded in agreement. All except one.

"Bard'ika," Kal said, "What do you think?" He sighed, fingering the small blaster at his side nervously.

"Kal, I don't like it. The Empire isn't stupid. Even if these kids managed to start a rebellion, it probably wouldn't be worth the distraction. You'd be throwing these kids lives away for nothing. And there's another thing that's been bothering me." He looked at Kal, fixing him with that piercing stare the Jedi took centuries to perfect.

"I keep hearing about sending the padawans away, but what about Master Hina Ka. She's more likely to draw attention to us then Semreh or Scout, but I haven't heard you say anything about sending her away." Kal was quiet. He had his reasons for keeping Hina Ka around. Selfish reasons, but it was all for his boys in the end.

"Hina Ka stays." He said flatly, daring anyone to challenge his claim. "I don't care what it takes, that skinny necked Jedi is staying right here." Bardin sat, stunned into silence by his intensity. Then, he looked shocked as though something obvious was dawning on him.

"Kal, is there something you're not telling us? Is this about the clone's age acceleration?" Kal hesitated then nodded silently. Cloners had techniques to make their clones grow quickly. This meant that they could supply planets quickly and en masse with labor forces and soldiers. The clones in the Republic army were designed to grow up fast; unfortunately for them, it also made them die more quickly.

"Bard'ika, that Kaminoan is well over a couple centuries old. The Kaminoans changed her, gave her long life. If we discover what they did to her…" He ended letting the words hang in the air. The men around him all gradually looked at Ordo and Spar, the only two clones in the room.

"Kal'buir," Ordo said quietly. "You think you can cure us? You think we could live a full life?"

"I don't know son." Kal said shrugging his shoulders. "But it can't hurt to try. We kidnapped that separatist geneticist out of Coruscant and have the equipment to help her research, so it's looking good." He'd been waiting a long time for an opportunity like this. If he could just get Hina Ka to agree, he felt sure that he could give his boys the lives the Kaminoans took away. Ordo looked relieved at the news and even Spar's face could almost be described as happy. Almost.

"The Kaminoan stays." He said firmly. "But we need to make sure nobody tracks her here. Any ideas?" Bardan raised his hand slightly.

"Yes?" Spar said.

"I-I will talk to the padawans, along with Master Ha." Bardan said looking at the floor as if ashamed. "We'll try to convince them not to go, but if they are determined, we'll at least give them supplies and money to help them. If they really want to fight, and it can by us time to rebuild Mandalore, then we should do whatever it takes." Spar nodded.

"Then it's decided. Begin preparations."

* * *

Semreh awoke with a start. It was the middle of the night and his room was warm despite the cold chills he felt running down his spine. He turned over and tried to fall back asleep, but the chills wouldn't stop. Finally, he rolled out of bed and began getting dressed. Whatever these chills were, they felt unnatural and of the Force. Dressed in his robes and tunic, Semreh grabbed his lightsaber and stepped out into the hallway. The Mandalorians had taken them to a building out in the country, a type of family fortress that the Mandalorian clans called home. It was well camouflaged and was home to a variety of people. From what Semreh had seen, there were 2 squads of clone troopers, 4 or 5 Arc troopers, 4 Mandalorians, one Force Sensitive Mandalorian, and a few civilians who looked out of place among the many weapons and sets of armor. It was quite the grim little band.

Semreh continued down the hall, feeling along the walls. He tried to immerse himself into the Force, but it slipped away from him.

"That's strange." He thought, "I've never had trouble before. Even as a youngling, I was first in my class to be able to be able to levitate things." It was as though he could feel the Force giving him chills, but couldn't grasp it. Semreh continued on blindly, disturbed by his feeling of dread and the way the Force kept slipping away like sand. A loud crashed from behind caused him to spin, hand igniting his lightsaber.

"Son of a kriffing nerf herding-"Scout cursed angrily. Semreh angled his saber, splashing a green light onto her. "Who leaves a stack of rifles lying in the hall!?"

"Mandalorians evidently." Semreh said dryly. "What are you doing?" Scout got to her feet, straightening her tunic.

"Couldn't sleep." She grumbled. "I felt really cold and can't stop shivering."

"Strange," Semreh mused, "I felt it to. A disturbance in the Force." Scout chuckled grimly.

"I don't know about that." She whispered, "I was just really cold. What do you think the Force wants us to do?"

"Don't know for sure, but I have this feeling that we have to go outside."

Scout shrugged. "Hey, you're the fortune teller."

Semreh started towards the door. Scout followed, unbuckling her saber from her belt.

"You brought your lightsaber?" Semreh asked.

"So did you."

"Yeah," Semreh said, "Something told me to bring it along. I just sensed it was a good idea. You?"

"No," Scout said, "I didn't sense anything. I just don't like to walk through a fortress full of heavily armed Mandalorians unarmed."

Semreh smiled grimly. "Good enough reason for me."

* * *

Outside, Semreh and Scout stood, looking about. It was cool outside and pitch-black. There was no moon tonight and the surrounding woods were almost completely silent.

"Well," Scout said rubbing her arms, "What are we waiting for?"

"I don't know" Semreh muttered. He scanned the forest, looking for anything. Movement, sound, light. Nothing. The forest was as empty and dead as space. Then, Semreh felt something, like a friendly nudge on the shoulder, pointing him towards the forest. He started trotting into the woods.

"This way," Semreh said over his shoulder. "I felt something." Scout followed, careful to avoid roots and stones that lay along the forest floor. Semreh continued, the small nudging pushing him onward into the dark abyss of the forest.

"Semreh," Scout said uncertainly, "Are you sure you know where you're going? What's back-"She stopped as she saw a faint flickering orange light in the woods. It was dim, but in the total darkness, shown like a sun against the galaxy.

"Scout," Semreh whispered, "Do you see that?"

"Yeah," she answered. Semreh squatted on the ground for a moment, squinting into the dark.

"Okay, we don't know who started that fire, so let's be careful. I'll circle around the right and you-" Semreh stopped as Scout sprinted forward.

"Scout! No-Stop!" Semreh whispered loudly, but it was too late.

"Damn it," Semreh cursed silently, "Why am I always paired up with the impulsive ones!?" He picked himself up and followed. They ran silently, careful to step lightly over leaves and branches. As they neared the fire, Semreh prepared to ignite his saber when armored hand reached out from behind a tree and smashed him in the face. He fell, dazed. A similar hand reached out to attack Scout, but she rolled at the last second, coming up with her saber in her hand. She ignited it, a blazing beam of cerulean fire. The armored man stepped out from behind the tree.

"How is it I didn't sense him?" Semreh thought wildly. He reached out and this time, he caught the Force in his grasped, like a thin thread. He raised his hand and sent a powerful burst of the Force towards the man. It hit him…and dissipated instantly.

"What the-" Semreh reached out with his mind this time, and sensed the Force in the man. It was the Mandalorian from the fortress. Suddenly, Semreh's vision was blocked by Scout, who stepped in front of him, legs spread in a ready stance.

"What do you want?" she said through gritted teeth.

"Easy girl," the man said quietly. "I don't want to hurt you." Semreh stumbled to his feet, clutching his forehead.

"So, why did you attack us?" Semreh asked. The man removed his helmet, revealing a stout face and sharp blond hair.

"I'd been waiting so long for you to show, I wanted to make sure it was you and not some crazed raider. We've heard reports of a few pirates hiding out in this area."

"Wouldn't you Mandos have wiped them out?" Semreh asked. The man shook his head.

"No, not yet. They could still be useful." The man moved back towards the fire with the two padawans in tow, and sat down on a log. On another log sat Hina Ka, the picture of Jedi serenity.

"Hello Padawans." She said pleasantly. "How are you tonight?" Semreh smiled grimly.

"Been better." He said. "Ambushes kinda put me in a bad mood though."

"Then you shouldn't be so loud while running through the woods." The man said with a mocking grin.

"Maybe you should watch what you say traitor." Semreh countered.

"Enough." Hina Ka said. "I'm afraid we don't have time for this. Semreh, Bardan, we need to **talk**." She emphasized that last word, warning the two men to back down.

"Typical male ego." Scout laughed. "Two alpha males in the same pack." They both sat down, using logs and stumps for stools.

"So, it was you calling us master Ka." Semreh said.

"Yes, it's an ancient technique that Jedi used to use to call a meeting in times of trouble. A conclave of Jedi."

"What's wrong? Have you changed your mind?" Kina Ha shook her head.

"No, I'm afraid that I will remain here whether you go or not." She looked knowingly at the Bardan. "There is still a lot of good I can do here, especially for these clones. What we need to discuss is what you plan to do. Do you still plan to try and fight the Empire?"

"Yes," Scout said without hesitation.

"Why?"

Scout threw her hands up in frustration. "What do you mean why? The Empire tried to kill us. All of us. They're subjugating worlds against their will!"

"Did we do any different while serving as Jedi Generals? Were we any less brutal?"

"We didn't kill unnecessarily," Scout countered. "We only did what we had to do to defend the Republic, like our oaths demanded."

"Ah," the Kaminoan said raising one slender finger, "But the people, the Senate, the Republic voluntarily became the Empire. Does that mean you should now fight for the Empire?" Scout snorted derisively.

"Somehow, I don't think they're accepting Jedi applications." She said.

"Well, then why do you want to fight for a Republic that not only no longer exists, but that isn't even wanted by the people who live in it?" Opened and closed her mouth, dumbstruck. Semreh could understand. Hina Ka's logic was undeniable. Why should they fight a hopeless war for beings who abandoned them?

"The Jedi were never meant to serve the Republic, but the Force." Hina Ka continued. "I fear this war is a result of our blind obedience to the Republic. I fear we may have gone against the will of the Force." She fell silent, letting the words sink in. Semreh thought for several moments. He saw a similar struggle on Scout's features, as though her mind was revolting against the very idea of staying here on Mandalore, but Kina Ha's logic was forcing her to look at it. Semreh decided to speak.

"Master Ha, I admit, you present a valid point, but I must disagree." He stood. "The people of the Republic didn't let it die, the Senate let it die. I'm certain that support for the Republic is still common enough throughout the galaxy, at least among the common folk. If we truly serve the Republic, let us serve the people not the Senate." The Jedi went silent, listening intently.

"We all know that Palpatine is evil. We can all see that now, so how can we possibly leave a man like that in power? Imagine how much destruction he could cause in even a short amount of time." Bardan shifted on his log, clearly uncomfortable.

"It's worse then you know." He said gravely.

"What do you mean?" Semreh asked. "How could it possibly get worse?"

"Palpatine is a Sith." Bardan said simply. For several long moments, only a small wind whispered through the air.

"Come again," Semreh asked, chuckling nervously. "I thought I just heard that a man, who met with the most powerful Jedi of our order on a regular basis, was actually a Sith Lord? Tell me I'm delusional from that bonk on the head."

"You're not." The circle was quiet again. Then…

"Oh, stars. Oh by the stars and galaxies!" Scout whispered horrified. "We were serving a Sith. All along, we were being used." Semreh fell back down onto his tree stump. He felt as though all energy had left his limbs.

"How do you know?" he asked Bardan in a breathless voice. It was getting hard to get enough air into his lungs. He felt as though he'd been kicked by a rancor.

"One of the Arc troopers happened to run into one of the Jedi commanders, who spilled his guts about it before another clone shot him." Bardan said simply. "We can assume that this whole war was designed to wipe out the Jedi and give the Sith control of the Republic."

"Well," Scout said rubbing her hands and getting to her feet. "We've got to fight now."

"Hey," Semreh exclaimed. "Hold on a second. Palpatine being a Sith changes everything. There's no way we can beat him if Master Windu and the others couldn't. I mean, they couldn't even sense them."

"But we can't leave a Sith in control of the Empire." Scout said. "Imagine trying to hide from the Empire your entire life. Does that appeal to you?"

"Not particularly," Semreh said, "But neither does dying."

"Ohhh," Scout said with a smile, "You won't die, and you'll have me to watch your back." In spite of himself, Semreh smiled slightly.

"Scout, you can barely lift a rock, and I am probably one of the worst lightsaber duelists I know. What makes you think we even stand a chance?"

"You don't," Bardan interjected. "At least, not alone. That's why, if you really want to go, we've decided to give you a little nudge off the planet."

"What do you mean," Semreh asked. The fire was starting to die, so he dropped another log in. Sparks rose like phoenixes from the fire, born quickly, then twinkling out like stars.

"I mean, you can do two things. You can stay here and hide out, or you can leave this planet and start your little rebellion. Whatever you do though, we are not letting you draw Imperial attention to us. If you want to start a rebellion, you can't start it here." Bardan got to his feet, and began pacing in front of the padawans.

"We've managed to accumulate a great deal of credits over the years. Though often from a source of…questionable legality, we can give you some of these to help you fund you're little war. That, and a ship that can get you where you want to go. Call it a gift for not getting us all killed." Bardan crossed his arms and stared at the padawans. "It's not like we don't want you two to succeed, we do. I just can't see how it will end well for you. So, choose."

The two padawans were quiet, neither wanting to be the one to either go to war or run and hide. They knew that this decision would change everything. They were at a crossroads. It was so vivid; Semreh could almost see the split dirt roads splashed in the bloody light of the setting sun beneath the horizon. He could see the scattered patches of grass and weeds that waved in the wind, as though begging for water from the pitiless sky. And there, in the distance, stood his future a dark figure against the horizon.


	17. Chapter 17 Departure and Arrival

Semreh's mind jerked back into the present. He was back at the campfire, where the choice to stay or fight still hung in the air. Bardan looked at them, face betraying no emotion. Same with Master Ha.

"Stars." Thought to himself. "What was that? It felt so real."

"Well," he heard Scout say. Her expression was fierce; her mouth was set in a determined grin. "I'm still going. I don't care how strong the Empire is, if we grit are teeth and try hard enough, I know we can take them." Semreh smiled at her determination. Deep down, she probably knew how this would end, but she wanted to go anyways.

"You're the boss," Semreh said cheerfully. He picked himself up and turned to Master Ha. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow." She said. "Some of the Mandalorians will take you to the nearby spaceport. We'll give you a transport and send you on your way." Semreh nodded. He wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

The next day, the padawans left early in the morning. They'd been blindfolded by some of the commandos and escorted to the town. The mornings there were as drab as the afternoons, and Mandos were already up and about.

"Now," said Ny, who had accompanied them from the speeder along with Bardan. "You have 600,000 credits, plus we loaded your ship with enough supplies to help you get started."

'Wow!" Scout said with a note of happiness in her voice," I never thought starting a rebellion would be so easy."

Ny grinned. "We learned from the Separatists and, let's face it, they were the best." They entered the spaceport and before them, sat one of the most beautiful ships Semreh had ever seen. It was sleek, painted black to camouflage it in space. It was shaped like a boomerang, with engines on the tips and the cockpit mounted in the center. It wasn't enormous, no more then only about 40 meters from tip to tip, and 15 meters in width. It appeared that, placed on either side of the ships wings about halfway between the tips and the cockpit, were weapon clusters, containing what looked like two laser cannons and a concussion missile tube. In addition, a small bubble laser turret was slung beneath the cockpit, no doubt accessible through the cockpit.

"Nice," Scout said mouth agape. "We get that?"

Ny nodded. "She's fast enough, especially for a light freighter, and her shielding not so bad. We also converted some of the cargo space to sleeping quarters and a med center. Figured, you might need it."

Semreh stared into space, as though in a trance. "Yeah, probably will." He said distantly. His mind was preoccupied by the enormous task in front of them and how to start.

"Come on," Ny said moving ahead, "I'll show you the inside." She and Scout hurried inside, with Semreh following at a walk. Before he could catch up though, a firm hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Semreh," Bardan said. "We need to talk."

"About what?" Semreh asked suspiciously. Bardan reached onto his belt and pulled out a small hold out blaster.

"First of all, carry this. Your lightsaber is too noticeable." Bardan then pulled out a small datapad. "And this is a little gift from the Arc troopers. It's a list of some men you can contact. Good men and soldiers. This should have their locations and prices."

"Prices?" Semreh said in a surprised voice. Bardan laughed.

"What did you think the credits were for? We also added some men who are former Seperatists. They would be happy to join your cause." Semreh took the datapad and activated it.

"So much for the glorious crusade to retake the Republic." He murmured surveying the lists. There were many commanders and mercenary troops listed.

"Personally, I recommend this man," Bardan pointed at a small entry. Semreh pressed a button, and the man's features appeared on the screen. "Commander Bren. He's an excellent man of honor who fought for the Confederacy. He was famous for winning several almost impossible victories against the Republic during the campaign on Drongar. With him and his sizable militia force, you should be able to begin gathering men. They called him the Grey Ghost because of how his men used the woods to their advantage and how quickly they moved through it. If you want to attract men to fight with you, he's the type that can really start a cause."

"So, what's the catch?"

'Well, not many people know quite where he is. After all, he is a guerilla leader." Bardan turned to walk away, but stipped. "Oh, one more thing Semreh; Have you considered what you will do if the Emperor himself takes the field. He's a Sith Lord after all."

"Way I see it,"Semreh said, "We'll cross that road when we come to it."

Bardan rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Yes, well, I can only suggest that you find a Jedi Master willing to fight with you, to train you. I don't know where, but you'd better, otherwise nothing you do will stop Palpatine from wiping you out." Bardan walked away, waving over his shoulder. Semreh turned and stepped up the ramp, passing Ny on his way up.

"Good luck!" Ny said cheerfully on her way out. Semreh found Scout in the cockpit.

"Can you fly?" She said uncertainly. Semreh smiled slightly.

"Define fly." Semreh said getting into the pilots seat. "I once crashed a starfighter behind enemy lines."

"How'd that turn out?" Scout said sarcastically.

"Hopefully better than this." The engines revved, and the ship shot towards space.

* * *

Once in hyperspace, Semreh let the ship run on auto pilot and decided to explore the ship. Besides the sleeping quarters, cargo holds, and med station, there was also a large central area with an enormous electronic device in the middle. Semreh looked for a way to activate it, but to no avail. Whatever it was though, it looked extraordinarily advanced. Back in his quarters, Semreh found that his clothes and everything else he owned, which wasn't much, stored in a locker. Everything was normal and undamaged. Semreh carefully checked the entire luggage for bugs or trackers. When he found none, he returned to the main hold. There, he found Scout practicing arm locks and wrist holds on herself. Everyone was perfect, carefully and almost delicate in its leverage. It looked extraordinarily painful.

"Isn't there a better way to do that?" He asked as Scout put her arm in a particularly grotesque twist.

"No pain, no gain." She said through gritted teeth. "This is the best way I know to practice. Besides, not like we've got training droids lying around here."

"True." He said.

"So, where are we going first?" Scout asked.

"Drongar." Semreh answered. "There's a Separatist general there who has an organic military force, which, considering that the Separatist droids are all shut down, is going to be our best bet for getting started."

"Organic military force?" Scout echoed. "You mean a militia?"

Semreh nodded. "Yeah, mostly." He pulled out the datapad Bardan had given him.

"Supposedly the conditions on Drongar made bringing in large numbers of droids unpractical, so the Seps gathered volunteers to fight." He said reading of the datapad. "Their commander is a man named Bren. He's a former mercenary who was drawn into the Separatist cause."

"Why would the Separatists bother over a planet they couldn't land droids on?"

"The planet's jungles and woods are the only source of the Bota plant." Semreh answered. "Bota was thought to be an excellent alternative to Bacta, which would have helped give the Separatists their own independent source. Later the plant was found to be virtually useless due to its rapid mutation rate, so the planet was abandoned by both sides."

"So why's this militia force still here?" Scout asked.

"The militia was left behind by the Separatists. They evacuated without the majority of the militia troops and, before they could return, the Republic had spared some ships to blockade it. Since then, it looks like a few expeditions have been sent down to find them, but most returned with heavy casualties, including a squad of commandos."

"Sounds just like what we need." Scout said cheerfully. "How big is the force?"

"About 3,000 men, give or take."

Scout whistled. "And we're supposed to smuggle that off an Imperial controlled planet. I hope you've got some ideas."

Semreh laughed lightly. "Hey, if we die there, we won't have to worry about where we're going to hide 3,000 men from the entire Imperial fleet." Scout looked at Semreh, a hard look in her eye.

"What!" Semreh said smiling, hands raised, "I was kidding. We'll figure something out."

"I hope so, cuz otherwise this whole thing could fall part."

"Hey, don't worry. Between my genius and your…whatever, I'm sure we can come up with something."

* * *

"We're coming out of hyperspace." Scout said from the copilot's seat. Semreh nodded grimly. The bright streaks snapped back into twinkling stars as the ship snapped back into real space. The darkness of space surrounded them, except for an enormous planet in front of them, surrounded by two enormous _Venator_-class Star Destroyers.

"Aw frag." Scout said with a touch of annoyance. "We've already been sighted by some picket ships. _Tartan_-class, coming in at 3 and 11 o'clock."

"Are they powering up weapons?" Semreh asked.

"Yeah, but they're not firing yet. Maybe they just want to talk." As if in answer, the com on their consol beeped and the face of a clone captain appeared.

"Unidentified light freighter." He said sharply. "Who are you and what is your business?" Semreh looked at Scout, who pressed a button on the com.

"This is the freighter, uh, _Arrow_, sir. We are merchants who have an overstock on weapons and military equipment. We wondered if you had any need for it…Sir." The captain's image winked off the screen.

"Well, Scout scowled, "That was polite of them."

"Probably talking with his superiors." Semreh said. "Whoever is in charge either has to say yes to let us land, or no, and we won't last a minute against those guns." Semreh nervously tried to maneuver his ship closer towards the planet, while the two pickets took up positions on either side of them.

"I've got a bad feeling about this." Scout muttered under her breathe. Semreh chuckled nervously.

"Weird, I've had that bad feeling since we left Coruscant with a troop of clone commandos who could kill us in a second, or was it when we learned that the Jedi were outlaws, or when it turned out Palpatine was a Sith Lord." Semreh shrugged his shoulders with a grim smile. "It's getting hard to keep track of all the bad news."

"You're telling me." Scout laughed. "The only good thing about all this is that now there's no chance of me being sent to the Agricultural Corp." Semreh looked at her carefully.

"Agricultural Corp. What do you mean?" Scout looked sheepish, as though immediately regretting her words.

"You know I'm not very strong in the Force. The Council almost sent me to the Agricultural Corp. Twice actually." Semreh sighed. The Force had always come so naturally to him, he sometimes forgot how difficult it was for others. "So, how'd you manage to stay in the order?"

"I don't really know." Scout confessed. "I think it had something to do with how I won the Apprentice Tournement.

"You won the Apprentice Tournament!?" Semreh said in disbelief. He'd lost very early on to a kid five years younger than him.

"It wasn't as glorious as it sounds." She said with a small grimace. She then told Semreh the story. By the end, he was staring open mouthed.

"You grabbed her lightsaber!" He said in disbelief. "Are you insane!?"

"That's what the healer said." Scout said with a grin. "Anyways, after that, Master Jai Maruk took me as his padawan." Her face fell, as though remembering a grief buried inside her.

"He died on our first mission together." Semreh was quiet. Still fresh from the death of his own master, he could understand her pain. It was what drove her, let her keep going, the knowledge that to die now would mean the end of everything her master died for. Oh yes, Semreh understood.

"My master and I were assigned to a diplomatic mission to Serreno." Semreh said trying to lighten the mood. "There was some disagreement over trade that might have resulted in a war. Anyways, Master Nostwa was so frustrated. She always preferred action to the diplomatic missions. She finally got all but one of the delegates to agree. So, when he was opening his mouth to speak during the final vote, she used the Force to pull his chair out from under him." Semreh laughed at the memory. He stopped when the view screen on the com crackled back on.

"Freighter _Arrow_, you are ordered to land at Tap Caf Base on Drongar for unloading of weapons and payment. Be advised that guns from the _Furious_ and the _Dormant_ will be tracking you upon entry. If you try any evasive maneuvers, you will be shot down. Our picket ships will escort you." One of the Tartan-class cruisers began pushing ahead of them, burning thrusters towards the planet. The other took up position on their six.

"Better go back and change outta those robes." Semreh said to Scout. "I doubt Jedi are any more welcome here than elsewhere."

"Good idea." Scout said, "Can you handle things up here?" Semreh nodded, and Scout went into the back.

* * *

When they landed at Tap Caf base, Semreh was surprised to see very little activity. It was a large base, pretty much a big circle a couple miles wide of forest that had been cleared out by either ship cannons or harvesting droids. Probably droids considering how valuable Bota was. The base itself was basically two enormous _Acclamator_- assault ships set down in the clearing. These ships seemed to act as barracks and a place for troopers to get out of the ninety percent humidity and the fungus spores. That was another thing. The fungus spores. As soon as they landed, two troopers had given them a pair of specialized rebreathers designed to keep the toxic spores from entering their system, otherwise, they would contract Spleen-rot and die.

"Truly, a place to build a summer home." Semreh thought grimly. The clones who greeted them included a logistics officer who decided to offer them a deal. Semreh hands over the munitions, or he and his clones take them by force. Semreh relented, on the condition that they are allowed to stay a few days. "Some R and R" he'd said to the clone. The clone had to comm back up to his superiors, before a gentle force nudge compelled the clone to let them stay for 48 hours. And so, Scout and Semreh went to meet the commander of the Tap Caf Base.

* * *

The Commander was an enormous non-clone man, whose bulk and corpulent chins would have made him the pride of a Hutt father. He stood in front of tactical read out, showing patrols of clone trooper's positions throughout the jungle.

"I don't care if the missiles aren't loaded!" He was saying into a comlink. "Get those gunships in the air now. We've got two platoons pinned down in sectors five and six. They need evac immediately. Do you understand!? Good." He turned off the comlink and began giving orders to his staff officers. The clone officers rushed to do their jobs with so much enthusiasm, Semreh felt this man must have truly earned their respect, something clones didn't give lightly. The commander then turned to them.

"Ah, our little group of merchants." He looked them both up and down. "Not very successful are you." Semreh winced slightly. Scout and he had donned simple clothing, in an attempt to stay beneath attention. Semreh wore a large grey hooded sweatshirt and a pair of rough trousers, while Scout had worn a simple farmer's tunic, rough and stitched up all over the place.

"True sir." Semreh said respectfully. "We actually hoped to get into the Bota trade. Heard that its value has skyrocketed." The commander looked thoughtful.

"From weapon's merchants to Bota scavengers, huh. Quite a big step, son."

"Hard to sell weapons without a war going on. "Semreh countered. The commander snorted.

"No war. That's what we'd all like to think, but guerillas like these are really keeping us Outer Rim commanders busy."

"I can see that sir." The commander walked away from them to survey the tactical map more closely.

"It's actually fortunate you came when you did. We're willing to transfer 6,000 credits to you in return for those weapons." Semreh's shock must have shown on his face because the commander smiled slightly. "I know, a generous offer, yes. A few days ago, guerillas infiltrated our compound and managed to detonate several caches on the _Nexus_, the Acclamator across from us. The patrols you see on the map are an attempt to retaliate that appears to be failing miserably."

"Why not just use orbital guns to blast them out of the jungles." Semreh asked, feigning ignorance.

"Because these rebels have no visible strong points, no obvious base of operations. If we can find that, we'd be able to blast them back to the backwater planet they came from, but we barely see their attack groups before they manage to ambush our troops." The commander sighed heavily. "I've got an enormous attack force, about 36,000 clones plus support, and I still can't find these bastards. And the longer I take, the more command rides me…" The commander rubbed his temple and fell into a seat. Then, his head snapped up.

"But why am I telling you this. Your civilians."

"Define civilian sir." Scout said with a small smile. The commander watched them, scrutinizing them.

"Go on." He prodded.

"Let's just say my compatriot and I are a pair of enterprising individuals who happen to have a pair of scanners on our ship that can detect a mouse running in the dark from a hundred yards away. Let's also say that this scanner works like a slot machine, and we need credits to get it rolling." Semreh looked at Scout, giving her a warning glance. Unless Scout had installed these supposedly godlike sensors in the time they'd been on Drongar, the _Arrow_ had plain old sensors. The commander's face darkened slightly.

"Another 3,000 plus promise of protection from the local garrison while we harvest Bota." Scout said.

"Done." the commander said without hesitation. Semreh blinked and even Scout looked suprised. His guerrilla problem must have been worse then he'd thought, to accept his deal without second thought.

"The guerillas have been known to use anti-air missiles on our low-flying ships. I'll assign an escort for you. You'll leave tonight. When you find large concentrations of guerillas, give the coordinates to the _Furious_, who will use her precision guns to take them out. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes," Semreh said "But only if you limit our escort. I'd rather not be seen or heard, something impossible with a large escort."

"I agree." The commander said. "Then, since we're all in agreement, you'll leave tonight, when all the rebels have hunkered down to sleep."

"I'm curious." Semreh said. They were back in the _Arrow_. Semreh was polishing the hold-out blaster Bardan had given them while Scout went through lightsaber stances.

"About what?" She said with a grunt, completing a downward strike onto an imaginary opponent.

"About how you expect us to join the rebels while followed by an escort, and how we're supposed to find them without the magical sensors you claimed were on our ship." Scout stopped in mid form, her blade angled low. She laughed.

"But we do have a magical sensor on board." She said with a grin. "You."

"Me?" He said in astonishment, but then he smiled. "Me. I get it. I use the Force to find pockets of the resistance groups, and then we ditch the escort, join the rebels, and contact Commander Bren." Semreh shook his head in wonder.

"Scout that's brilliant!"

"I know." She said with a cocky grin. "But considering part of it still relies on your piloting skills, it only has a fifty/fifty chance."

"Trust me," Semreh said with a smile. "A plan like that would be a shame to ruin. I'd never forgive myself."

**_Hello again. Happy Thanksgiving! Have a few chapters ready to go, but you know, suspense and all that. Thanks tow everyone for reading and reviewing this story. I look forward to hearing your critiques and suggestions. Thanks for reading._**


	18. Chapter 18 Names

**_I kinda thought I hadn't touched enough on the clones, so I added this chapter. It was too short, so I added a part that included C-41's past._**

C-41 sat in the copilot's chair, fingering the blaster at his hip. CTA-132 sat next to him, readying the YT-1150 freighter they'd hijacked. So far, he and CTA-132 had traveled in silence, shocked and angry to actually say what they were both thinking. That the Empire they had both served had betrayed them. That now, they had no purpose in the world, no reason to exist. That was what the GAR was to clones like C-41; their existence.

"I don't understand." He said to the assassin. "If they wanted us to capture the Jedi, why make it seem so that we died."

"Deniability." CTA-132 said simply. "We're going to have to get our hands dirty on this mission. There'll be civilian casualties, mass destruction, hostages; the works for hunting down a Jedi. So, the Empire doesn't want us running around with clone trooper armor. They want us to be two renegade clones that have become bounty hunters and now just want to bag their targets, who happen to be Jedi. Simple."

"Simple!" C-41 said angrily, "Who the heck would think that this is simple?" CTA-132 smiled.

"Why, politicians of course." CTA-132 laughed his grim little laugh. "The point is that now, we have no choice but to find these kids."

"Why?" C-41 asked. "Why should we? According to the Empire, we're dead."

"Yeah, and what do you think we have to do to get back into the GAR, hmm?" He began flipping switches, and the ships engines began to rumble. "My old commander had a saying; "Come back with the target, or don't bother. If we come back empty handed, they may decide to make the computer right the easy way."

"So, seeing as you're dead," CTA-132 continued, "and I'm dead, I suppose we should come up with some new aliases. No reason to keep using that ridiculous number designation, especially since we'll have to blend in and talk with civilians." He looked at C-41 as though he was a puzzle. "Actually, even I'm curious what your nickname is. I mean, most of you lesser clones do tend to make nicknames, right?"

"Not me." C-41 said flatly. CTA-132 was starting to step on dangerous and very personal ground.

"Really? Why not?"

"Why don't you?"

CTA-132 chuckled grimly. "Just because I don't share it with you, doesn't mean I don't have one, but I thought all you cannon fodder always tried to trumpet your individuality and-"He was cut short as C-41's fist smashed into his nose. CTA-132 fell back, surprised.

"Wha-"He said thickly through a bloodied nose. "What are you doing!?"

"First of all, I'm not cannon fodder. I've probably seen more action then all you little clone killers put together. I am a commando trained clone trooper who lost his entire battalion, every one of his brothers, and who is annoyed to be paired up with a piece of plastoid covered filth like you! Now if you don't mind, can you fly us out of here!?" CTA-132 got to his feet, a ferocious scowl on his face. C-41 readied himself, expecting a knife to fly to CTA-132's hand.

"Listen clone, I don't care about what psychologically damaged part of your mind thinks that it's a good idea to introduce ourselves as CTA-132 to civilians, but I've been on a lot more covert ops missions then you have, and I gotta tell you, this is almost standard procedure. Do you think that the Republic let us openly assassinate Sep leaders? No! We always were stripped of anything that could identify us, including our dog tags and names. So, if you want to get back to your precious army, I suggest you pick a damn name." He sat heavily back into the pilot's seat, working the controls. C-41 sat quietly as they rose through the Coruscanti sky. His chest was heaving.

"A new name…" He thought. "Hmmm…"

12 years ago.

"C-41." The Kaminoan said, offering him a small designation card. "Put it on. That is your designation. Respond."

"Yes sir." C-41 said without hesitation. He took the card and attached it to the breast of his uniform. Beside's him, his brothers were also being designated. He waited for them to catch up.

"What do you think we do next?" A voice asked from behind them. C-41 turned and saw one of the boys from his regiments. Like C-41, he was only a few years old, but already had the body of 15 years old. His brothers were beginning to gather together now, instinctively standing at attention in battle formations.

"I guess we move to the next line now." From where they were standing, C-41 saw that the next line was an arming station where the young clones were given weapons. Rifles, pistols, and shoulder mounted missile launchers. They then marched off towards the training areas.

"35th regiment, report for arming and training exercises. 35th regiment, report for arming and training exercises." A loudspeaker blared.

"That's us." The clone behind C-41 said cheerfully. He looked closely at the clone's designation number. U-30.

"What's your designation stand for?" He inquired.

"It says I'm the 30th member of the urban assault squad. The UAD"

"Are you in our regiment?"

"Yeah," He said with a cocky grin. "We're attached to you guys. If you need a town cleared, we got you."

C-41 grinned back. "We'll, let's hope it never comes to that. I hate street fights."

45 minutes later.

"Incoming!" C-41 threw himself to the side as a large mortar shell exploded to his left. Besides him, two clones had taken cover in a crater, laying down suppressive fire from an E-Web repeating blaster.

"Who's the genius who came up with live fire exercises!?" The gunner griped.

"I don't know, but they ought to hang them." C-41 yelled back. They'd been taken to one of the many training fields on Tipoca City. It was an enormous room, maybe several hundred yards long and wide. On one side, automated blaster emplacements were manned by training droids. It could have been any old training battle except today they were using actual ammo that could tear holes in durasteel. There objective was a small CP, designated _Bantha_, raised on a sloping part of the field. From up there, it was lobbing mortar and blaster fire on top of the clones. The weapons were all operated by droids or automated. That didn't make the bolts they fired any less deadly.

"We can't stay here." C-41 yelled over the constant pinging of the repeating blaster. "They're trying to zero our position. Once they do, if we're here, we're dead." The gunner and his partner nodded. They began packing up, while C-41 looked down the sight of his rifle, trying to cover them. They jumped out of the crater and ran across the field, a stream of blaster fire following them. Before it caught them, they dove behind one of the many obstacles that littered the field. Around them, clones had taken shelter in craters or behind obstacles, desperate to get out of the enemy's line of fire.

"Has anyone seen the CCR-24!?" C-41 yelled asking for the commander.

"No." the gunner said. "They were setting up a command post when mortar fire hit them. Killed the commander and wounded the other four with him." He jerked his head back as more fire streamed from _Bantha_.

"We're all cut up." His partner added. "And we have no way of communicating with the other squads."

"But if we stay here, _Bantha_ will just keep picking us off. We need to take that position." C-41 said pointing. "All right, let's get moving. You two set up here. Look around and gather any heavy weapons, radios, or equipment you can find. I'm gonna get everyone else moving. The two nodded and began setting up their repeater. C-41 took a deep breath, and began running across the field. Again, blaster fire pinged around his ankles. He dove, sliding into another crater.

"Wow," he said shakily. "I hope all droids shoot that terribly."

"Yeah," a familiar voice said. "We wouldn't have to wear so much armor then." It was U-30. He was lying besides for other clones, one of whom was nursing a shoulder wound. U-30 had a long barreled rifle in his hands, while the other two were unarmed.

"Where are your weapons?" He asked.

"We lost them. Had to drop him to drag this guy." One of them said, patting the wounded clone's good shoulder. A second later, a stream of blaster fire cut across the man's helmet, killing him.

"Well that was worth it." The other clone said in disgust. Another mortar landed nearby, sending dirt showering onto them. C-41 knew they needed to find some weapon that could take out those emplacements at long range, but none were available, and any attempts to get within small arms range would be cut down.

Then, C-41 got an idea. Scattered across the battle field were many obstacles meant to slow clones down and stop heavy vehicles. They also seemed to resist the repeating fire from the guns on top of _Bantha_. Yet, every time a mortar hit nearby, they would rock, shaking from the impact. They weren't bolted down so that they could be rearranged, making every training exercise new and unique, and were light enough go be carried by Kaminoans.

"U-30, I've got a question for you." How strong are you?" U-30 looked up, and then looked at the obstacles. He grinned.

"Strong enough," he said with a smile. "U-36. U-27, help we with this." Together they lifted, grunting with the effort. Blaster fire continued to ping off the front, but they three clones continued pushing forward. Together, they were inching towards _Bantha_. The droids, unable comprehend why an enormous indestructible obstacle was suddenly marching towards them, merely continued to fire at it. As they continued, C-41 noticed a missile launcher lying abandoned next to a dead trooper. Looking around nervously, he reached out, and quickly pulled it behind the cover.

"Stop." He said, and they did. Crouched behind the cover, C-41 looked at the number of projectiles left in the launcher. Only one.

"Okay, listen." He said to the other three clones. "We've got one shot to take that mortar launcher out. After that, we should be able to reform our men outside the range of the lasers and take _Bantha_. But we have to take out that launcher." He turned to the two unarmed clones.

"You two take this launcher and try to get a clear shot. U-30 and I will run to the left, and draw their fire." The clones nodded. C-41 turned and leaned forward in a sprinters stance, with U-30 doing the same besides him.

"10 credits say I beat you to the next piece of cover."

"Deal." They ran helter-skelter across the field. The guns on top of _Bantha _swung to target them, spraying blue fire across the field. For a few moments, C-41 felt the testosterone pumping through his limbs, as though nothing could touch him. Then, a concussive blast threw him forward. He flipped, spun, and landed on his back in a daze. He felt U-30 pulling him forward towards a crater. C-41 flexed his muscles and moved his limbs, making sure everything was still there, before scrambling into a crater with U-30.

"Beat you." He said breathlessly. C-41 smiled.

"I'll pay you back later. Now we ha-"He was cut off as an enormous explosion rocked them. Bantha was in flames, its mortars ammo dump no doubt completely disintegrated. 30 yards back, the two clones were waving and shaking the launcher. C-41 laughed._ Bantha's_ guns were being caught in the explosion, gradually falling silent as the droids who manned them shriveled and died in the flames. All around him, C-41 saw his brothers advancing across the field, using cover and fire techniques. Someone threw a grenade at the summit, destroying any remaining droids. C- 41 knew that success when he saw it and began walking back towards the CP. There, he found the gunner and his partner grinning.

"Well, looks like you took care of everything. Barely had to fire a shot." They said happily. "We found a working comlink if you want to contact anyone. We should probably start collecting the wounded." They left, leading a few clone medics to the nearest wounded. All around him, C-41 saw troopers being dragged to the command post by their brothers, some screaming, some just quiet. C-41 looked on as a Kaminoan stepped out onto the battlefield. Somehow, their pale white skin seemed out of place in the muddy scarred training field.

"Are you the commander here?" the Kaminoan said calmly. C-41 shook his head.

"No sir, Clone Commander 24 is dead. I took over in his absence." He stood at attention, aware that this Kaminoan could probably have him disposed of for showing such initiative. Or promoted. Kaminoans were weird like that. It was as if they were on a higher plain then the clones, as though they were all just factory workers, working on one little part, unable to see the final product.

"Very good C-41. You take command." C-41 stared, but then caught himself.

"Yes sir, I'll get right on it." He turned back to his troops and began giving orders. His brother's listened unquestioningly, moving wounded to med centers and gathering any abandoned weapons. C-41 also hurried over to the wounded, helping U-30 carried a man with a belly wound over to the aid station.

"You know, this seems like a major waste of resources." U-30 said bitterly.

"Careful." C-41 whispered. "Don't want the Kaminoans hear you say that. Besides, this way we're better prepared for the war." U-30 snorted.

"What war? All we do is sit around all day, working and being flashed trained. And what's with the designations anyways. It's like they think we're products."

"We are products." C-41 said gravely. "And I think the number designations are meant to keep us equal. After all, I'd never want to have an advantage over any of my clone brothers. It might mean I make it and they don't, and I couldn't live with that." C-41 looked closely at U-30.

"Could you?" He sighed.

"No, I guess not. You make a good point." He glared at the Kaminoan overseer again. "Still, I don't like these guys or how they treat us." C-41 shrugged.

"We don't have to trooper. All we have to do is do our duty."

**_Thanks to you all for reading and reviewing._**


	19. Chapter 19 Contact

**_To all whocaught my mistake in the last chapter- Yes, I accidentaly called C-41 Semreh in the last chapter. I thinked I fixed it now. Sorry._**

The _Arrow_ zoomed low across the tree line, its thrusters singeing the tops of the foliage. Above it, flying so close Scout could see their pilots white helmets, were a pair of V-wings escorts. The hyper maneuverable craft had little to fear if an anti air missile came streaking from the forest. The _Arrow_…not so much. Semreh was at the controls, face scrunched in intense focus, trying to fly the _Arrow _and use the Force to sense people below.

"Have you thought about how we're going to ditch the fighters?" Semreh asked hoarsely. "I don't think the _Arrow_ is maneuverable enough to take them head on, and the turret isn't designed starfighters."

"I have an idea," Scout said slowly, "But you're not gonna like it. Sure you want to know?" They both bounced in their seats as the _Arrow _jostled beneath them. The _Arrow_ had dipped to low and they'd struck a tree.

"At this rate," Semreh said with a grufnt as he pulled back on the joystick, "I really don't see how things could get any worse." Then Scout told him the plan. It was true. He really didn't like it.

"V-wing escort." Semreh said into the comm. "Be advised, we have first rebel contact detected. Repeat first rebel contact detected. Sending coordinates to orbital support." There was silence for a few moments. Then…

"Copy that _Arrow_. Setting up perimeter while you transmit coordinates. Watch your back." The V-wings turned away, circling the _Arrow, _watching for heat signatures. They of course, would never see any. The rebels were far too careful. Semreh reached out as he circled the area, reaching out with the Force. And then he felt it. Fear, anger, adrenaline. The feelings of prey in hiding.

"All right Scout." Semreh said into a comlink, "It's your turn."

* * *

Back at the rearmost hatch of the _Arrow_, Scout was holding tight to the doorway as the ramp of the ship gradually fell.

"I immediately regret this decision," She yelled into the comlink over the roaring engines. "Why did I ever think this was a good idea?"

"Come on Scout." Semreh prodded with a grin. "Just four meters to your right, and you'll be right on top of them. Okay?" Scout swallowed nervously.

"Next time, you get to jump." She said, and threw herself out of the ship. It wasn't far to fall. The tree line was only about twenty feet below, and the tree's themselves only twenty five feet high. That was still too high for Scout's tastes. When she hit the tree line, she reached out desperately with her hand, grabbing a branch on her way down, slowing her. It snapped and she plummeted down until she hit the ground with a dull thud. She landed on her back, her head spinning. As she got to her feet, she was dully aware of a clicking behind her, along with the small sound of metal sliding across metal. Then, the Force surged through her and, without thinking, she stepped to the right. A bar of crackling electricity slashed into where she'd been standing a moment before. She spun to the right, raising her left leg and smashing it across a man's face. He dropped the stun baton he was carrying and fell backwards. Behind him, two of his comrades raised rifles, taking aim.

"Wait a second." Scout whispered as loud as she could. "I'm on your side. Don't shoot!" They didn't lower their weapons, but also didn't fire. There were three, two covering her with rifles, the other was rubbing his jaw from her kick.

"What's your name?" One of them asked warily. "And where'd you come from?"

"I'm jumped off that freighter up there." She said pointing up. "The Imperials are using it to scan for your camps." The man she'd just pummeled snorted. Looked like she'd broken his nose.

"How does that make you on our side again?" He said thickly.

"Because, I'm going to help you shoot it down."

* * *

Semreh was working the controls as best he could, trying to appear as busy as possible for his escorts.

"Come on Scout," He muttered to himself. "Where are you?" The comm on his consol beeped loudly.

"_Arrow_, this is your escort. What's taking so long?" The pilot's voice was impatient.

"Having some technical difficulties. Long range comms dead."

"Then give us the coordinates and we'll transfer them for you." Semreh hesitated then gave him coordinates, about a hundred yards from the rebel camps actual position.

"Roger Arrow, let's keep moving." Semreh turned off his comm. He needed to buy time. Where was Scout with that kriffing-

An explosion rocked the _Arrow_. Semreh reached out with the Force and felt the right wing of the _Arrow. _It had a large puncture in it, the result of a shoulder mounted AA gun. He rammed the joystick to the right, throwing the Arrow into a spin. It spun once, twice, and then crashed through the treeline to the jungle floor.

* * *

Scout pointed at the V-wings. "Quick!" She said urgently, "Get them before they get away." The two rebels with the AA Gatling gun raised it again. Its five barrels chattered as it sent a stream if hyper accelerated bullets into the cockpit of the V-wing, killing the pilot instantly. The other tried to get away, but was struck in the side by a homing missile fired from a shoulder mounted launcher. Just like that, it was over. Scout stood up and immediately began running towards the _Arrow._ She'd told the rebels to aim where it would do the least damage to the ship, so that Semreh could play dead. It didn't make her any less uneasy for her fellow padawan. When she got there, she saw it had thankfully crashed upright, landing belly down on a few trees and aside from the small hole where the AA Gatling gun had chewed through, looked none the worse for wear. Already, a few guerrillas were surrounding it, training their weapons on the doorway.

"Wait," Scout yelled to them. "The pilots a friend too."

"To be honest." The rebel with the broken nose said. "We're still not sure you're a friend."

"I helped you bring down the ship." She said in an outraged voice. "How does that not make me a friend?"

"Excuse us for not welcoming you with open arms." He countered, "But we're a little suspicious of things that come hurtling out of the sky. Months of aerial bombardment and all that." At that moment, there was a loud clunk and a hiss, and an escape hatch at the top of the ship shot upwards like a bullet, landing several yards away. From the hatch, Semreh pulled himself out, and got shakily to his feet.

"Hi Scout," he said surveying the scene. "Looks like the plan went off without a hitch. Ejection seats could use some calibrating though." At that moment, they too shot upward from the cockpit, propelled by jets on their bottom.

"Jeez, you think?" Scout said with a smile.

* * *

A few minutes later, the barrage from the orbiting Star Destroyers began. Enormous bolts of white hot energy lanced into the ground, pummeling trees into craters. Two hundred yards away, the padawans and the rebels were safely away, loaded onto several land speeders while an enormous crawler had begun dragging the _Arrow_ away. Under the cover of the jungle, they moved, careful to keep heat signatures as low as possible. The guerrillas themselves were actually well clothed and supplied. Most wore uniforms that consisted of long padded pants to protect from the foliage and thick flak jacket vests that protected their torsos. Their flak jackets were covered with small pockets that contained grenades, knives, and numerous other weapons. Semreh noticed that, despite their military training and equipment, all were armed with archaic weapons like slugthrowers and vibroswords. When he asked one of the rebels about it, he told him to keep his kriffing mouth shut. They drove for several hours, though Semreh suspected that it was a ploy to confuse them and keep them disoriented. Finally, they came to a small clearing, only about 20 yards wide. The speeders stopped short of the clearing, remaining hidden in the jungle.

The guerrilla with the broken nose walked into the clearing, and lifted a small section of dirt up from the ground, revealing a small, dimly lit tunnel. The guerillas jumped in one at a time, and the padawans followed. The inside was very dim, but from what Semreh could see, the tunnel was well built, shored up with lumber from the trees above. They crouched low, crawling through the tunnel for several meters, until they came upon a more open chamber, in which stood, judging by the picture's Semreh had seen, Commander Bren. He was an enormous man, middle aged, but with broad shoulders and height to match. His clothing was simple, a tan undecorated uniform. He was standing over an old map, arms holding his torso up, as he studied it. Besides him stood two other soldiers, a slightly pale woman with long black hair. Her face was intelligent, and she seemed to be pointing out points on the map for the commander to observe. She wore an unzipped flak jacket over a black shirt, which looked like it was covered in blood. Strapped to her hip was a blaster pistol and a few small spheres Semreh suspected were grenades. Next to her was a man, who Semreh could only describe as scary. It wasn't the scars on his face, oh no. Semreh had seen lots of scarred men over the years. It wasn't how he was so pale he almost seemed to glow in the dimly lit room. And it certainly wasn't his hair, which was slicked backwards. It was his face. As hard as Semreh looked, he could read no emotion on the man's face. Even when he reached out with the force, he only felt a strange apathy emanating from him, as though he had no opinion to offer the world. Commander Bren was nodded again before standing up to his full height and speaking to the scary man softly. The man nodded and ducked into a nearby tunnel. Then Commander Bren turned to Scout and Semreh.

"Ah," he said in a calm voice, as if the arrival of two teenagers in his main command center was no big deal. "I hear you two assisted some of my patrols in shooting down three enemy ships. That is good, especially as a sign of faith."

"Two ships sir." Semreh interrupted. "We helped your men shoot down two enemy ships."

"Really!?" Bren seemed genuinely surprised. "My officers reported that you shot down three enemy ships, two V-wings and a custom light freighter."

"The freighter was ours sir." Scout said. "We wanted to get in contact with you without letting the Imperials know. This way, they think we're just lost in the jungle." Commander Bren looked thoughtful for a few moments, and then smiled slightly.

"Forgive me, but I'm still trying to conceive why you would want to contact my men and me. In case you haven't noticed," He said gesturing to the underground room, "The war's over and we've lost. Big time." He settled into a chair, rubbing his temple.

"We have no support, no major capital ships. We don't even have a way off-planet. Considering all this begs the question; why would anyone ally with us?"

"Because it serves their best interests." The black haired woman said. "Think logically. The Empire is going to have no rules or laws protecting smugglers or pirates. At least in the Republic, such groups had a chance in court, but I've got a feeling that the Empire won't be so lenient." She stood next to Bren, like a watchdog protecting her master.

"There are a lot of groups who want to hurt the Empire, whose best interests are not served by its existence. Pirates, smugglers, corporations." She paused and looked at Scout, a hard look in her eye. "Jedi." Semreh raised his hands in defeat. He knew the game was up.

"All right, you caught us." He said grinning. "But I don't suppose you might be willing to listen to a few proposals I have. Might be in everyone's best interests." He said with a meaningful glance at the woman.

"Forgive Lieutenant Sonya." He said with a smile. "She is a little bit overly protective and suspicious."

"So would you if you've been under your command for as long as I have…sir." She turned and conferred with a few officers while Bren walked forward and took Semreh's shoulder.

"Son," he said in a slightly hoarse voice. "I know what the Jedi are like. I fought a few while we were here on Drongar. The fighting here was fierce but honorable. Prisoner exchanges, no execution of prisoners, on both sides. To be honest, I admired my Jedi enemies despite how flawed I believed their belief in the Republic was. Now, I think you see, yes?" Semreh looked at him.

"Awfully idealistic for a merc, aren't you." Commander Bren laughed. It was hearty and full of cheer.

"At my age, you start to get less cynical and more philosophical. Besides," he continued, "Mercenaries don't make the history books."

"You won't either if you don't find a way off this rock." Semreh countered.

"Ah yes, your proposal." Bren said happily, "I suppose you have an idea as to how we can escape."

"A few," Semreh said cryptically, "But there is a small catch."

"And that would be?"

"Join us." Semreh said. "You joined the Seperatist cause to change the Republic. You joined to uphold the ideals of freedom and justice. So, join us, and we can throw the Empire to its knees. Join us, and let's strike back." Semreh stopped, panting slightly. Bren looked at him in astonishment, and then smiled.

"That took you a couple hours to come up with, didn't it?

"Hey, I had time to kill on the way here, and it was better than trying to get outta Scout's arm locks." When Bren raised an eyebrow, Semreh just shrugged, "Inside story. Sorry sir. So, will you help us?" Bren was silent, deep in thought.

"If you and your friend can find us a way off planet, we'll join. I'll have to have your plan approved by my officer of course, but at this point, we'd try almost anything to get off planet. However, I have one condition of my own." He said raising his pointer finger. "I have about 3,000 loyal men scattered on this planet. I'm going to give order for them to meet at a rally point, and then I want all of them off planet along with my officers and I. Agreed." Semreh nodded. It was a good start, and he'd been planning to take the other men with him anyways.

"Agreed." He said shaking his hand.

**_All right, thanks for reviewing. I had fun writing this chapter._**


	20. Chapter 20 Battle for Tap Caf Base

**_This Chapter was hard to word, but I think it conveys the idea nicely._**

While Semreh helped Commander Bren gather his scattered forces, Scout decided that she would check on the _Arrow_. After all, the _Arrow_ was their best bet for escape if the plan went badly. After all, it wasn't as simple as just charging into the base. The landed ships would turn their turbolasers on the troops as soon as the rebels managed to cross the perimeter sensors. Somehow they had to disable the sensors and the ship guns at the same time. Not that Scout didn't have confidence in her and Semreh's plan making abilities; she just didn't want to trust the rebels to not put some type of bomb or jamming device in the ship as a safeguard against betrayal. They seemed suspicious enough after all. She found it in the rebel's miniscule hanger. Less a hanger, it was more like a cave cut into an enormous hill, where the rebels maintained their few assault vehicles and starfighters. Really, the cave was probably bigger than it had to be. The Arrow was easily the biggest ship in there. All the rebels had was a squadron of Headhunter starfighters, three captured V-wings, and a 27 speeders and treaded tanks and light vehicles that were mounted with laser cannons and missile launchers. Also in the hanger was a small armory that contained, as far as Scout could tell, the only blaster weaponry on the base. When she asked her guide why the weapons weren't being used, he told her that they had a very limited number of blaster packs, that all the modern weaponry they had was taken from dead clones, and that everyone else was forced to use the archaic slugthrowers that hurled small pieces of metal at each other.

When Scout asked why the rebels didn't even have blasters, he answered, "The Confederacy sent us here to secure Bota plants, not destroy them. Because of the risk of fires getting out of control, both the Republic and the Confederacy used slugthrowers and melee weapons. There was still a risk of fires breaking out, but it wasn't nearly as bad." He looked somewhat wistfully at the piles of weapons.

"Of course, now that Bota is useless to the Republic, they don't have such reservations."

"The Empire you mean." Scout corrected pointedly. The man shrugged.

"Empire, Republic, either way, we fight the same clones." Scout fell silent. Pro-Republic feeling wasn't remarkably high in the rebel camps, which is why Bren wisely kept their existence as secret as possible, telling only a few of his officers. The rest just thought she and Semreh were fellow Confederates on the run.

"And this," the guide continued, "is where we are repairing your ship." Scout gaped. The Arrow looked as good as new, as though it had never been pierced by high powered armor piercing rounds. The gaping hole was so expertly covered and welded; there was no way to tell.

"This is amazing!" Scout said in awe. "Who fixed it up?" The guide pointed over to a green insect alien who was tinkering with some tools and parts by a workbench alongside a small astromatic droid. A Verpine, an insectoid species that was famed for its mechanical work.

"His name is Zraii." The guide said hurriedly. "He's a Verpine, and they literally worship mechanical work and skill. This guy been has with us since we landed and has been keeping our ships in the air despite the jungle. And the droid helping him is R5-E4. That guy is our little hacker. Once hacked onto our bases security system on accident. Caused us a mess of trouble." Scout stared at the alien. Its hands moved quickly, performing miniscule adjustments and repairs in the blink of an eye. Its speed was amazing. The droid likewise was holding a welder to a small piece of equipment.

"You should hear the stories he tells." The man continued. "Before joining us, he and the droid worked on a Republic Warship. When they decided to defect, they sabotaged the engines and brought the thing crashing into a Sep planet. Never learned why they wanted to defect, but it must've real serious to make them crash their own ship."

Scout nodded, then, an idea crashed into Scout's head. She looked at their patched up ship to the genius mechanic and back again. Then she laughed. The guide looked at her as though she'd lost her mind.

"Miss?" he said uncertainly, "Are you okay?" Scout just kept laughing. The way off this rock for the guerillas was so simple, so easy; she was shocked she'd not thought of it before. And the fact that a mechanic that skilled happened to be around; the Force must be with them. She walked away, still chuckling, leaving a very confused and nervous rebel behind.

* * *

Semreh looked on as hundreds of rebel companies gradually trudged across the jungle paths. The majority appeared to be human, though Semreh noted several Rodians, a couple Gran, and even, to Semreh's surprise, an enormous reptilian Trandoshan. They all carried weapons and wore flak jacket uniforms with patches on the side to distinguish their units from each other. All and all, some three hundred companies at least were gathering in the woods around the command bunker. When Semreh asked how they were going to avoid detection, Bren simply shrugged and growled that he wasn't worried about remaining hidden anymore, though his men continued to keep a low profile anyways. The vehicles they brought with them were also varied. Just about every company had a speeder bike or two, but some had enormous treaded crawlers mounted with everything from flamethrowers to extra seats to carry men into combat. Their speeders were also armed, mostly with rear mounted light blasters and heavy cannons up front. Most were also clearly Republic made. When Semreh asked Commander Bren about the lack of AATs and other Confederacy made equipment, he told him about the emphasis Confederacy High Command had placed on not destroying the Bota, and how his stranded forces had been forced to scavenge all non-slugthrower and non-melee equipment from the enemy camp.

"Three thousand men." Semreh thought. "I really hope Scout's plan works; otherwise, this will be a disaster." Commander Bren liked the plan and even Sonya seemed to praise it. Still…

"We caught a break before you got here." He continued. "We managed to infiltrate the enemy camp and capture some more modern equipment. Not enough to arm all of us, but enough to outfit a few battalions. The rest have mostly Czerka Repeating carbines and old bolt action sniper rifles." Semreh shook his head. Those were hunting weapons, not military surplus. The Repeating Carbine was a short barreled carbine that loaded slugs through clips attached to the side. The bolt action sniper rifles were often taken from the homes of people who hunted recreationally, not exactly designed to bring down humans or other large life forms.

"Not exactly an elite force of well armed mercenaries." Semreh mused. Bren looked at him, irritated.

"They may not be the best equipped force, but their well trained and able to carry out your plan." Semreh nodded. They'd have to be well trained to pull this off.

"Did you get the technicians and pilots in your armor units?" Semreh asked.

Bren nodded. "Yep. Any soldier with experience on warships or navigation. I also have a platoon of artillery men standing by to take control of the heavy guns. We'll probably need them." Semreh looked up at the Venator Star Destroyers orbiting above them. Bren followed his gaze.

"Any idea what to do about those?" He asked Semreh.

"A few." Semreh responded. "None of which I like a lot."

* * *

The perimeter of Tap Caf Base was ringed with automated turrets, to keep away both the wildlife and wandering rebels from the camp. Every twenty yards a small sentry post was manned by three troopers, while every ten yards an automated turret scanned for life forms, looking for the vibrations caused by a heartbeat and the telltale heat animals give off with infrared. They weren't however looking for a small astromatic droid. After all, no droid could have survived in the woods. So, although motion sensors saw a small steady movement pass between the turrets, the sensors dismissed it as the wind blowing through the trees. The droid continued rolling across the compound. The grounds were almost empty, save the patrols of clones wandering about in groups of ten and groups of mechanics and mongrel officers running errands and working. They were alert, but nobody cared about a small astromatic droid. Probably on an errand from some mongrel officer. As the droid approached the first Acclamator, gradually working his way to the small terminal that connected the ship to its perimeter defenses. Once there, the droid jacked into the terminal and uploaded the program it had created. A small virus that for twenty seconds would shut down a small section of the defense. Only about two forty yards worth. Then again, that's all that was needed.

"This is just like the holo vids." Scout whispered with a smile. "I can be the beautiful but deadly woman warrior, and you can be the creepy grouch who follows her around the galaxy and always needs to be rescued." Semreh scowled though he smiled inwardly.

"Hey, you're the one dragging me all over the place. I would have been content to spend the rest of my days pouring over holo books." He smiled to let her know he was kidding.

"Quiet back there!" A guerrilla said from a tree above. "Do you want every trooper in the base shooting at us?" The padawans fell silent and the guerrilla went back to using the scope of his sniper rifle to scan the base. Around them were ten guerrillas armed with slugthrowers. They were an elite squad led by the scary man who they'd seen in Bren's command post. His name was Bolt Silus and he was Bren's third in command. He was squatting in front of the brush lining the jungle, using electro binoculars to scan the base. On his back was one of the few blaster sniper rifles. At that moment, the lights on the section of perimeter in front of them flickered and died.

"Go," Bolt whispered. "Scout and Semreh rushed forward and raised their hands above their heads, waving them.

* * *

"Hey!" Scout yelled. "Hey you guys, we need a medic over here." The clones, already nervous given the power outage trained their weapons on the padawans. When they saw the unarmed teenagers, they lowered their weapons slowly and walked forward.

"Who are you?" the lead clone questioned. "Where'd you come from?"

"We were pilots on a freighter that was shot down by the rebels. We managed to escape them and make it back here." The clones kept ready while one of them comlinked up to HQ.

"Their story checks out sir. orders are to escort them up to commander Strum." The lead clone nodded and shouldered his weapon.

"All right kids, let's move it. I don't want to leave this post undefended for long." He turned to the clone on the radio. "Get on the comlink for a patrol to take over for us." The clone on the comlink talked quickly into it, and then nodded towards the lead clone.

"We're good sir; they'll be here in one minute." The clones formed up in a box formation around the padawans and began marching towards the nearest ship. Already, the patrol of clones was nearing the outpost. None of them noticed the small insectoid alien that had crawled past the clones during their conversation with the padawans, who now walked confidently across the fields, joining a group of the mongrel mechanics working on the ship.

* * *

The verpine went pretty much unnoticed. He began working nonchalantly on a small power distributer that helped direct energy from the ships to the sourounding base. Most mechanics were good. Some were very good, but for Verpine, it was a way of life. So, for Zraii, to manually reroute energy from the turrets to the guns of the ship, was no great feat. To the other mechanics on the ship, it looked like the energy output was the same as a few minutes ago when in reality, important systems like the perimeter defenses were operating at half power, while other systems, like the ships turbolasers, were receiving too much energy and on the verge of overloading. All Zraii had to do was connect two wires, and the energy flow to the turbolasers would short them out. But he didn't. Not yet. He reached into his clothes and pulled out a small comlink waiting.

* * *

Scout and Semreh were surprised by the warm welcome Commander Strum gave them. Especially considering that they'd failed to find the rebels. The Commander smiled and joyfully leapt to his feet.

"Ah, so you are alive." The man exclaimed. "Good, good. I was worried that one of the partisan bands had captured you."

"They almost did sir, but we managed to escape them. There are still a few bands out there; if you hurry you can catch them." The commander nodded and turned to some of his commanders.

"Take three platoons and comb the area, then try and get a fix on them with the ships turbolasers. Then, blast them back to their caves." The clones moved to follow his orders. From the window, Semreh saw a few groups of soldiers form into platoons and rush towards the woods. About 400 clones. Semreh listened intently as they trotted into the jungle. Nothing.

"Good" he thought. "Bolt's troops must have not been detected." He turned to the commander who was looking at him in an odd manner.

"So," he began, "I'm afraid we were never properly introduced. My name is Commander Strum, and I command a backwater post of undermanned Acclamators in the Outer Rim." He smiled. "But not for long." He said drawing a blaster from his holster. Around him, the clones and officers drew their weapons, aiming at the two padawans. A squad of clone troopers then burst in, raising rifles and setting up repeating cannons.

"Jedi are in high demand lately." The Commander continued with a smile. "The Emperor will reward me for this." Semreh subtly reached into his pant pocket and felt for his comlink. Silently, he activated it.

* * *

Back at the perimeter defenses, Lieutenant Silus watched as clone troopers walked past his men, who remained hidden in camouflaged positions. Once they'd passed, Bolt signaled for their comlink man to warn Commander Bren about the approaching force.

"They said they'll be ready for them, but sir, I think you should listen to this." The man handed him the comlink and Bolt listened intently.

"Is that the two kids?" The guerrilla said uncertainly.

"Yeah," Bolt said hefting his sniper rifle. "Sounds like they're in trouble. Looks like we'd better improvise the rest of this plan." He rushed to the brush, crouching to avoid detection. Looking down the scope of his rifle, he saw the bridge of the Acclamator had become a hostage situation. Bolt signaled for his troops to gather around him and then ordered them to disperse and find the best angles for hitting the command bridge. One of the guerrillas asked what their targets should be.

"Target the commander and as much of his command staff as possible." Bolt whispered. "Our orders are to behead the enemy's command and sow confusion in the enemy ranks, so we will."

"What about the kids?" Another asked. Bolt shrugged.

"Don't hit them if you can help it, but if they get in the way, shoot through them."

"But sir-." Bolt cut him off.

"Our orders are to remove the enemy's leadership. Soldiers follow orders. Our job is to complete our mission, not rescue two kids. You're soldiers, now follow orders." The men dispersed. Bolt wondered how deep their loyalty ran. Would they follow orders? He knew the men didn't like him. They respected him for getting so few of them killed, but more importantly, they feared him. He'd lost soldiers before, just not to enemy fire.

* * *

Meanwhile, Zraii was listening to his comlink with deep interest. When the red headed girl had came to him asking if he could do anything too subtly disable the enemy defenses, he'd happily agreed. He'd spent far too long on this planet. He needed to do it manually because, despite his droids excellent hacking skills, any program the droid used to shut down the turrets would be noticed quickly. It would take a while for troopers to discover the work he'd done with the wires of the ship, and even longer to fix it. Now, he heard the children's voices over the comlink in his hands. It didn't sound like they'd be able to give him the order. Not now. The original plan had been for them to get away to a refresher or abandoned barracks room and contact them then. Now though… Zraii had a feeling a distraction couldn't hurt their situation. It wouldn't disable the security turrets inside the ships hallways, but it would disable the heavy turolasers and perimeter defenses. He connected the wires and then signaled the main rebel force with his long range transmitter.

* * *

Commander Bren stood on top of a crawler, looking around at his troops. They were ready, in strict formations and standing silently. Bren had placed his battalions with blaster rifles in the vanguard, to help them punch through the enemy lines. Then Bren's comlink began to buzz. The signal.

"All right boys." Bren yelled to his troops. "Let's lock and load. Vanguard Battalions, intercept and destroy leading enemy forces and patrols. About four platoons. Everyone else, board the nearest Acclamator and secure it as quickly as possible. Surprise is our only chance. Engine rooms and bridge first." The troops cheered and began to move out. All throughout the woods, the 3,000 men Bren had begun marching forward. In front of him, Bren could hear the ping of blaster fire as his vanguard began its attack on the enemy platoons.

"Hopefully, we still have the element of surprise." Bren muttered to Sonya. She smiled slightly.

"I'm a little more worried about the heavy guns. If the Verpine didn't disable them, we won't last ten minutes."

"Zraii wouldn't have signaled us unless he was sure it worked."

"Unless it wasn't Zraii." Sonya said upholstering a blaster pistol and jumping off the crawler. "He could be dead."

"Always the optimist, aren't you." Bren said with a smile.

"Hey, I just try and think logically." She began trotting after the troops. "I'll be up with the troops. You lead the armor all right?"

"Still trying to keep me alive?" He said accusingly. The armor was only going to set up a fire support perimeter, far from the fighting inside the ship, in order to protect their technicians who were going to try and fly the Acclamator off-planet. "I don't lead from behind."

"I thought you'd say that." She said. "But sir, success depends on our pilots and best technicians making it to the bridge and engine rooms, and they are in your crawlers and heavy speeders. So, can you please stay and keep an eye on them before I have to stun you myself."

"Bren smiled ruefully. "All right, I'll join you on the bridge in an hour. But make sure you leave some clones for my men and me." Sonya smiled and ran into the jungle with the rest of the troops. Bren waved for the crawlers to star forward. The line of armor surged forward, tearing trees down and crushing them in their advance.

* * *

"So," Semreh said hands on his head. "How'd you know we were Jedi?" Strum smiled and waved a datapad at his face.

"I received a message from Imperial command. It included the names and descriptions of escaped Jedi, and you happened to match up. Obviously your Force powers helped you survive in the jungle and evade the guerillas, just as I figured, and I had an ambush waiting for you." Semreh felt Scout besides him, not fearful, but furious and angry as she was gagged by a clone trooper in front of her and put into stun cuffs. Another clone trooper relieved them of their lightsabers.

"It's okay." He thought to keep the panic from rising. "I've still got that holdup blaster up my sleeve…literally." He felt it there, strapped to his lower arm.

"Ah," the commander continued. "Yes, your lightsabers. I would like to study these. I bet if I could understand the way they were put together, I could-." At that moment, all hell broke loose.

* * *

Scout had an unusual skill; truthfully, her only real skill in the Force. For whatever reason, when she was in combat, she could sense what her enemies were going to do before even they knew it. It was really only a split second warning, but it was often all she needed. In this case, she felt the blaster bolt heading towards her from several hundred yards away. Okay, maybe not towards her, but she reacted without thinking. She let her knees bend and she dropped and raised her cuffed hands above her head. The clone trooper in front of her tried to grab her, but a second later, a blaster bolt burned through his chest. It kept going and hit the stun cuffs. Slowed by the trooper's body, it didn't explode in her hands, but began to melt slightly, disabling the electric current running through it. Scout shook the cuffs off and dove forward. Around her, the clone troopers and officers fell around her, cut down by precision sniper fire. Most were hit in areas unprotected by the clone's armor, in the necks or visors. Those that remained, less than half, dove beneath consoles and the windows. The commander was lying by the tactical consol, a terrible wound in his shoulder. Scout leapt forward and grabbed his wrist, twisting. The commander yelped and the two lightsabers fell from his hand and to the ground. Scout gathered them up and tossed one to Semreh, who had already used the Force to remove the stun cuffs. He turned and drew a blaster from inside his sleeve, calmly firing into the squad of troopers behind them, deflecting bolts back with his other hand. He then reached out with one hand, and the blast doors of the bridge shut and locked. Scout meanwhile was systematically dragging mongrel officers out of hiding and disabling them with precise jabs at their pressure points. She was careful to disarm them and give them a chance to surrender. Faced with a blazing sword of blue flame, most did. Even several of the clone technicians and officers dropped their weapons. Some however didn't. Trapped by rebel sniper fire and the Padawans, they didn't last long. She found a large set of stun cuffs from a security station and began restraining those who did.

"Scout!" Semreh yelled from a consol he was working at. "You got the bridge crew rounded up!?"

"Yeah." She said attaching stun cuffs to the last officer. "That's the last of them."

"Good, cuz I think I just found the controls to the ships security." He turned to the prisoners. "But it needs a password. If we get that, we can get the ships security systems to target the clones." Scout looked them over. There was no guarantee that these men knew the password, and they didn't have a lot of time to find out. When she voiced her objections, Semreh just smiled grimly.

"There's one guy here who knows all the passwords." He stepped behind the tactical consol and dragged Commander Strum out by a leg. He was enormous and required all of Semreh's strength to move to the security consol. He dragged the man up to his knees and leaned him against the machinery.

"Listen commander," He whispered dangerously, "I'm giving you one minute to give me the passcode to this consol, or I start to remember how you tried to sell us out." The commander chuckled hoarsely. His shoulder wound was bleeding profusely.

"I'm dead no matter what. There's nothing you can do for me, or to me, to make me give you the code. At least if I go down, I'll take you with me." Semreh stared at him, shocked at his defiance. This man didn't strike him as a man to die for a cause. Then again, he really didn't have much to lose. Semreh hadn't wanted to resort to violence. It definitely wasn't the Jedi way, but where had the Jedi way gotten them. Suddenly, uncontrollable anger surged through Semreh, and he kicked the man to the floor. Something within Semreh snapped.

"I know how you Jedi think." He gasped. "You won't do anything. You can't torture me or anything." Semreh didn't respond; he just swung his elbow down onto the man's face. Commander Strum yelped through a broken jaw. Semreh grabbed the man's collar, bring them face to face.

"Thirty seconds!" He screamed into the man's face. "Then I make the next few moments the worst of your life." The Commander was silent. Semreh took his lightsaber and held it up to the man's neck. Time seemed to freeze. Scout was looking on in horror, her shock reverberating through the Force. He saw the commanders face, terrified at the prospect of a mad Jedi. Semreh felt the thousands of men throughout the ship and in the jungle. Their fear, their calm, their ignorance. Semreh knew the clones had no idea about the size of the force about to bear down on them. If he could disable the ships security, they might have a bloodless victory. All that, in exchange for one moment of darkness. One moment of darkness he might drown in. He deactivated his lightsaber. He breathed in and out, and saw relief come to the commander's eyes.

**_Will probably update again on Saturday. Please Review and give your opinions and suggestions. Thanks_**


	21. Chapter 21 Escape

Then, Semreh raised his deactivated lightsaber hilt, and drove it into the commanders wound. The man screamed and squirmed as Semreh pushed it in deeper and twisted. He reached out and felt the man's mind, amplifying his pain. He'd always been good at using the Force, but now he felt so focused and determined he could feel the parts of the man's brain that controlled his nerves. He gently manipulated them, amplifying the feelings of burning pain His legs shook and twisted grotesquely as he screamed a few numbers over and over again.

"49546!" He screamed. "That's the code. That's it!"

"Semreh!" Scout yelled, horrified. "Stop it! Stop now, please!" Semreh pulled the saber out and wiped the gore and blood of it on his tunic. He turned silently and punched the numbers into the consol. Once he had access, he activated the emergency mode. It was a mode activated when a ship was taken by the enemy, ordering all turrets to target any and all organics and droids in the ship.

All around the ship, clones on patrol, asleep, or just standing around were targeted by the ships turrets. The turrets sudden activation caught the clones by surprise and quickly, most of the clones were hit or pinned down. Now, an Acclamator Assault ship can carry 16,000 clones plus support personnel. When Commander Strum first landed, he had about 10,000 in each ship, giving him a total of about 20,000 troops. Constant warfare over many months had worn these troops down to about 15,000 fit and fighting clones. About 9,000 of these troops were boarded on the Acclamator the padawans had boarded. In the two minutes following the activation of the turrets, less than a third of these clones were fit to fight and the rest were pinned down as turrets at important intervals of the ship activated. When the turrets of the bridge activated, Semreh and Scout were ready and quickly dispatched them.

Looking out one of the window, Semreh saw the rebel troops advancing across the base grounds. They were driving back the small and separated patrols and had yet to take any fire from the main guns.

"Looks like the plan worked." Semreh said solemnly. "Time for part two. Let's go."

"Right" Scout said nervously. She looked at him, pleadingly. "But Semreh, you can't do that." She gestured towards the Commander, who was still breathing, gasping on the floor.

"If we sink to their level, how does that make us any better?" She continued. "If you do something like that again Semreh, I will stop you." She looked fiercely at him, and Semreh knew she meant every word.

"It had to be done." Semreh said stonily. "It was that, or lose a substantial part of our force and that was unacceptable" He kept his face emotionless, but inside, he knew he was justifying his actions, not only to Scout, but to himself. He didn't know what had come over him. He hadn't even felt remarkably angry or furious; just as if he knew what needed to be done, and had done it. It felt as though he had been seeing the world perfectly clearly. Yet, it felt so wrong.

"Right now, we need to focus on our job, not my actions." He said attempting to change the subject. "Fate has given us an unexpected bonus. We now control the ship with minimal losses, and it looks like the other Acclamator is sending troops to investigate. They've started to battle the rebels beneath us. If we can get Zraii to give us back control, then we can start supporting them." Semreh started walking towards the communication station.

"I'll try and stall them; you get on the long range comlink and try to get in contact with Zraii and Bren. Tell them to set up the jamming signal and to start sending his artillery units to the ships guns and to start firing on enemy troops." The rebels had a substantial jamming station mounted on the back of one of the crawlers. Once it was in place, Bren said he could guarantee 45 minutes of enemy comlink silence. If they could keep the Venator Star destroyers above them from firing, they might be able to get the drop on them and take the second Acclamator. Then, Semreh had a sudden revelation. He went onto the rader consol and began observing the flight patterns of the Venator Destroyers. After punching in some calculations into the computer, he smiled.

"On second thought, have him clear the other Acclamator of clones, then evacuate and leave the Zraii's astromatic droid behind on the bridge."

"Why?" Scout asked.

"Because, he's going to take the ship of using its remote functions and send it into hyperspace along these coordinates." Most Republic ships had remote functions that allowed all their functions to be controlled from the bridge by a skeleton crew. Semreh told her the coordinates and she nodded and relayed them to Commander Bren. Scout looked at the radar consol again, trying to decipher the various blips and dots.

"You mind telling me exactly what you're planning. Why clear the other ship, and then abandon it?"

"Because, we only need one to evacuate all the rebels. The second is going to clear the way."

"But if you want to use it to clear the rest of the ships, you'd need more than an astromatic droid to run the guns and engines together. And why would you have him jump to hyperspace?" Semreh smiled and leaned against the consol, looking up at the two Star Destroyers above them.

"Just watch."

* * *

Bren's crawlers fired continuously on the clone troops rushing from the second ship. They'd already forced them back and managed to ambush maybe half as they exited the ship through the main ramp. The jamming device they'd set up seemed to be doing its work; the enemy was confused and disorganized. Even the superior training of the clones was being negated by the sheer ferocity of the rebel's attack as they used slugthrowers and vibroblades at point blank range. They'd been taken completely by surprise. The clones hadn't even managed to get their heavy equipment like tanks and repeaters out.

"Commander Sonya," he said into a comlink, "How are things going up there?" Static fizzled; then, he heard Commander Sonya's voice. Her words were scattered, but he could understand.

"We've taken the… Heavy casualties sustained by clones… minimal received…mopping up the remnants. Bridge secu-." The rest dissolved into static.

"All right," Bren said. "I want you to evacuate as soon as possible and transfer all the troops to the first ship."

"Come ag… Please repeat."

"You heard me commander. I'm sending a squad to escort R5-E4 up to the bridge. He'll remotely pilot the Acclamator into space."

"Copy. Executing orders." The comlink crackled and fell silent. Bren looked at the second Acclamator. The troops were already moving away, taking prisoners and weapons with them. They began boarding the ramp of the first ship, bringing wounded clones and guerillas with them. This was where all their training, all their discipline paid off. To take an enemy by surprise, secure two ships, and then reorganize themselves. Bren had never felt prouder. Banging on the side of his crawler, he signaled for the vehicles to follow him. Together, they began boarding the ship. Once inside he gave orders for men to secure their armor and landspeeders in the hanger. There was a flurry of activity as men began preparing for flight, tying down equipment and wounded so they wouldn't shift during flight. Bren now turned to the technicians, navigators, and pilots. In reality, they were only men with minimal experience, men who had served on capital ships before. But they would have to do.

"You know your jobs. Get up there and get this ship airborne. I want engines and guns ready in five minutes. Move it!"

The men scattered, some gathering wounded and captured clones, others dividing into groups to start moving the ship. Bren felt the ship beginning to rise, its sub-light engines warming up. Bren knew it wouldn't be long until the orbiting Star Destroyers realized things were worse than they thought and opened fire. They'd rather destroy their own ships then let them fall to the rebel troops. Their comlink jamming had bought them some time, but they had to hurry. All in all, all Bren could do was hope that the gunners above were terrible shots.

* * *

Semreh looked on as the empty Acclamator besides them burned its engines and surged forward. Somewhere on that ship's bridge was the little astromatic droid. The bridge crew Bren had selected to pilot the ship had taken control and now, both the ships were rising towards space. The droid piloted assault ship was leading them, an enormous shield. So far, it was on course, streaking towards the two Star Destroyers, who were still on their standard patrol courses. The nearest one began to position itself to fire a devastating broadside at the ship, while the rearmost one was trying to move past the other Venator ship so it to could bring it's guns to bare on the speeding Acclamator. The cannons of the nearest one flashed and volleys of plasma energy hit the droid piloted Acclamator. The shields absorbed some of the blasts, but several holes and breaches appeared on the ship's hull. A second later the ship winked out of existence. Semreh sighed. His plan had failed. Now they would have to-

A shockwave seemed to rock the whole planet. He reached out, balancing himself on a consol. The ship rocked and rolled as shockwave rocked the ship. Above them, Semreh saw the nearest Venator Star Destroyer split apart, the remains Acclamator wedged between the two sections. The debris from both the ships tumbled forward bombarding the other Star Destroyer with debris. It's shields buckled and the ship's hull began to deteriorate.

"A rather brilliant plan Semreh." A voice from behind said. Sonya was walking across the bridge, flanked by a pair of nasty looking guards. "You ordered the droid to hyperspace to a point where both the Star Destroyers were aligned, using it as a high speed missile. That must have taken some calculations. Now, all we have to do is worry about the light cruisers and star fighters." Semreh nodded and turned to Scout. She looked at him, still looking suspicious and worried.

"Do me a favor and find Zraii please? I got a feeling we'll need his help to keep this ship going when we're so undermanned." Scout nodded and rushed out of the bridge, lightsaber concealed beneath her robes. Semreh now turned to Sonya.

"What's our situation then? Are we screwed or did we just pull off the greatest escape in history?" Sonya shrugged and sat down in one of the bridge chairs.

"With the Star Destroyers destroyed, we should be able to jump to hyperspace and be long gone by the time the enemy's reinforcements arrive." She looked at Semreh, smiling. "You did a good thing today Semreh. You should be proud." Semreh nodded, but deep inside, a guilty feeling continued to churn in his gut. They'd won, but at what cost.

"By the way," Sonya continued, smiling slyly. "Go check out the hanger. Commander Bren has a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Semreh said suspiciously. "What are you talking about?" But she just turned and began talking with navigators about setting their next course.

* * *

Back in the hanger, Semreh caught up to Scout, who was talking with the Verpine intensely. The Verpine looked furious, waving his arms about and gesturing violently. Besides them, Commander Bren was trying to calm the alien down. Nearby soldiers would glance briefly at the spectacle, then look away, busy with their work. Bren saw Semreh approach and waved him over.

"Evidently, Zraii didn't know his droid was going to be destroyed in your plan. He's rather…upset." Bren threw his hands up in frustration over the Verpine's anger.

"So, what is this surprise?" Bren smiled and waved his hand towards the hanger. There, nestled among the ARC fighters and banged up pieces of equipment, was the _Arrow_.

"It took some work, and the hulls a little banged up, but we brought your ship onboard before we took off."

"You brought the _Arrow_!?" Semreh said happily. "I thought it was left in the jungle with the rest of the ships."

"Sonya and I decided that it was worth the risk to bring it along." Bren said. "After all, you're the ones who are going to have to find more of our allies, and a Star Destroyer, particularly one that's been stolen, isn't very subtle. Which brings up the big question number two." Bren gestured at the hanger around them. It was full of left over equipment from both the clones and the guerrillas. Bren's men were now in the process of taking account of all the equipment, gathering it into piles and checking it for damage. One crawler had turned over during takeoff and now a crowd of men were attempting to pull it upright again.

"We now have a fine base for your little rebellion, and enough supplies and weapons to arm several thousand soldiers, and the 3,000 men I can provide are a good start; but where are we going to hide it all? There are many hidden places that most people don't travel too or through, but which one should we choose?" Semreh thought for a moment. It was a puzzling question. The best option would be a friendly planet, but those were few and far between. Scout and Semreh would have to convince the leaders to let them stay ahead of time.

"Until we find a safe place," Semreh finally said, "I say we just stay in the one of the many asteroid belts in the Outer Rim. That's where most of the most organized opposition to the Empire can be, and from there we can rally more factions to our cause while remaining hidden."

Bren nodded solemnly and rubbed his hand through his blond hair. He pulled his flak jacket on, buttoning it up to his chin, and then left for the bridge. He was joined by the scary looking fellow, lieutenant Bolt. They whispered quietly as both took off at a trot. Semreh ignored them and turned to Scout, who was still arguing with Zraii.

"You didn't tell me that the droid was no a suicide mission." Zraii yelled, his voice echoing off the bulwarks. "You lied to both me and the droid."

"And I keep telling you I had no idea that's what was going to happen!" Scout countered. "I was just as in the dark as you were."

"Ha!" Zraii snorted unconvinced. "You humans are all alike. You have no appreciation for droids or the work that goes into them. I build a machine my whole life, but to you, it's just another piece of garbage to use and throw away." Scout looked surprisingly horrified for a second; then her face grew angry as though she was remembering some hidden part of her past best left alone.

"Listen you hyperactive bug, you have no idea how I feel about droids. You think I don't care about them but you're wrong. I've worked with them, lived with them, and even risked my life for them." Her voice broke for a second as she turned away. "One even saved my life, so don't you dare lecture me on droid ethics." She walked away, shoulder back, head hanging low. Semreh let her go and walked up to Zraii.

"You should probably leave her alone." Semreh growled. "I know you were attached to that droid, but we've all seen our share of loss in the past couple of hours, her in particular."

"Really!" Zraii yelled angrily. "What has she lost that causes her pain equal to mine, hmm!"

"Everyone." Semreh said simply. "So have I."

* * *

Scout found an empty dormitory and entered, locking the door behind her. That talk with Zraii had awoken memories she'd buried, memories of Whie and hers mission to Vijun. The two droids who had sacrifice themselves to save them. What were their names? Oh yeah, Solis and Whies gentleman's gentle thingy. Fidelis; that was his name. A sharp jolt of almost physical pain throbbed through her chest. Another group of beings she couldn't save. They were droids yes, but she'd connected to Solis, abandoned by his owners like she was almost abandoned by the Jedi Order, and when Whie and her had been in danger, he'd come to save them from Asajj Ventress, dying in the process. Fidelis had likewise been threatened with the death of his master Whie, and had been forced to pull his own trigger. Scout hated thinking about it, and she pushed the memory away. A small knocking came from the door.

"Scout?" Semreh's voice said from the outside. "You in there?" She sighed and got to her feet.

"Do you really need to ask?" She said unlocking the door. Semreh walked in and turned a switch, sending light into the room.

"Not really, you're sending off enough emotion to be felt on the other side of the ship. It's kind of annoying." He smiled to let her know she was joking. "So, wanna talk about it?"

"No." Scout said flatly. "This is the problem I have with the time between missions. If I'm not doing something, I think, and if I think, I think about Vijun." Semreh nodded and gestured at the ship around them.

"Hey, we've got a Star Destroyer to ourselves." He said with a wide smile. "You can do just about whatever you want, but as far as action goes, you won't have to wait long. As soon as we're out of hyperspace, we'll be on our way to visit more planets." Scout smiled slightly at Semreh's attempts to cheer her up.

"In the meantime," he said unbuckling his lightsaber, "There's always the fun of dueling each other."

"Don't kid," Scout grumbled, "You have the Force on your side. You'd probably cream me in a one on one fight."

"Trust me Scout; you shouldn't have a problem with me. I'm the worst duelist I know. The only reason I'm still alive is because of my razor wit and dashing good looks." He grinned and left the room.

* * *

Back on the command deck, where the streaks of hyperspace were visible through the enormous windows, now repaired, Semreh was surveying the various high level prisoners that they'd captured. Most of the non-clone officers had already given the codes to almost all the systems on the ship. A few had even offered to defect, an offer Semreh promptly cut down.

"I may be a kid, but I'm not stupid." He murmured to the bound commanders. "You'd turn us in as soon as you got the chance."

"Logically, we should just put them in an escape pod and let them float away." Sonya said calculatingly. "The chances of them managing to get a message to the Empire are slim, but enough to make them a liability."

"But if we just let them float," one of the guerilla officers said, "There's no guarantee they'll be found. They'd probably starve before they did."

"Then we shoot them." Bolt said, still no emotion breaching his voice. "Fortunes of war and all that."

"No," Commander Bren interjected. "We don't kill prisoners. That's final."

"I figured you'd say something like that." Sonya said with a sigh. "Always so noble. Then again, I guess that's why I follow you." They both looked at Bolt, who shrugged.

"I'm a soldier. I follow your orders, no matter what they are." Bren nodded and turned to Semreh.

"What do you think son?"

"I agree with you commander." Semreh said. "We can't kill prisoners. Not only will it make the enemy fight to the death, but we need to win over the common people."

A small chuckle came from the captured commanders. In the group, still bleeding from his shoulder wound, was commander Strum. He was smiling grimly as a medic attended his wound.

"Oh yes, Jedi never compromise there values, except when it suits them." The medic looked at Semreh sharply.

"Jedi!" The medic said. "The boys a Jedi!?" Everyone in the room moved at the same time. Semreh ripped his lightsaber from his belt as the guards drew their sidearms and aimed. Bren, Sonya, and Bolt also drew their weapons, aiming them at their own troops.

"Stand down soldiers. The Jedi's our comrade now."

"Say's you." A big guard with a large slugthrower said. "You weren't nearly cut in half by their lightsaber."

"Told you we should have space them." Bolt murmured to Bren.

"Stand down trooper." Bren continued. "The Jedi has joined us and saved all your lives. We owe him." Gradually the men lowered their weapons and holstered them. Semreh deactivated his lightsaber and nodded to the men around him.

"Thank you for your trust." He said bowing. The big guard grunted.

"We don't trust you, just Commander Bren. The moment you step out of line, you're dead."

* * *

Semreh rushed to find Scout again. He needed to warn her so she could be on her guard. Most of the Soldiers under Bren's command would listen to his order, but he didn't want her to be alone on a ship full of hostile killers. At the very least, she needed to know. He finally found her in a small cargo hold, going through the motions of the Broken Gate fighting form. She twisted, grabbing and twisting the limbs of imaginary enemies. She rolled and came up, saber ignited, chest heaving.

"Hey Semreh, what's wrong?" She said through staggered breath.

"We might have a problem." He told her what happened up on the command deck.

"Three thousand against two." Scout said worriedly. "I don't like the odds."

"Two Jedi," Semreh corrected with a cocky grin. "But your right, we should stick together until we exit hyperspace, and then get out of here as soon as possible on the _Arrow._ I say we split up and each takes a planet. I'll go to Melida/Daan and you can go with one of the commanders to Naboo. You'll need one of them to help convince them to join us."

"Right. Do you think the Queen will support us?".

Semreh shrugged. "Maybe. We saved them from invasion once. I'm sure they haven't forgotten it. More importantly, other Jedi will come to the same conclusion as we have about Naboo. See if you can contact some."

"How long do we have left till we leave?" Scout asked.

"A day before we come out of hyperspace, so we have some time to kill. Since you seem intent on training," Semreh said grinning, "Want to spar?"

Scout smiled and ignited her lightsaber on low power. "You sure you want to do this?"

"I don't have anything better to do." Semreh said activating his own.

**_Hi, Just figured I'd say I'm planning to make this a trilogy since it seems to be taking so long. Still don't know though. Anyways, Merry Christmas and keep reviewing._**


	22. Chapter 22 Bait

**_Sorry for not posting for a while, but I have good news. I have begun posting chapters for the spin off I mentioned. It is called "Another Story" and takes place in the Knights of the Old Republic Universe. I just want everyone here to know that I plan to keep writing this one. In fact, I want them to converge eventually at pivotal(?) points in each of the storys. You know, two big revelation chapters where the connections will be made clear to you. Anyways, for those of you who don't know about that era, but still want to read it, I suggest looking things up on Wookipedia, particurally about KOTOR 2. _**

**_Link to Story-_**

.net/s/4717356/1/%3Cb%3EAnother%3C_b%3E_%3Cb%3EStory%3C_b%3E

**_P.S. Hey, this story's also coming up on it's 6 month aniversary. Huh, I don't know why i noticed that, but I just thought I'd mention it._**

CTA-132 really liked cantinas. As far as mongrels went, it was the one useful thing they'd invented. Large places where beings could trade information for drinks. Bars on Abregado-rae were examples of such places. Abregado-rae was a rough and tumble Core world and home of its infamous Capital City. Its fame came from the various canals that crisscrossed it, acting as both roads and a tourist attraction. It also was known as a haven for smugglers and pirates and as a place where you could learn just about everything you wanted to know. CT-132 was here for the latter reason. The bar was wild, with people dancing on tables and being stabbed to death within feet of each other. Since entering, CTA-132 had seen maybe twenty people beaten into unconsciousness and thrown from the bar. He didn't bother thinking about what happened to those lying helpless in the street. However, it wasn't the center of the room that interested CTA-132. The outskirts of the room, where the real killers and mercenaries sat quietly nursing their drinks. One in particular caught CTA-132's eye. The man was short and skinny, and looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks. Over his head, he wore strip of clothe that concealed his eyes. He smiled and tried to stealthily approach the man. He was about six feet away when the man turned and slowly turned a small holdout blaster on him.

"You're still loud." The man said flatly. "I could hear your boots when you walked in the rooms." CTA-132 looked down at his white plastoid boots. They were the only part of his uniform he kept. Everything else he was wearing was soft clothing that barely made noise. CTA-132 could have kicked himself.

"So, I see you still have that creepy way of hearing everything." CTA-132 murmured sourly.

"It's your fault." He said tugging gently at his blindfold. CTA-132 ignored that and pulled a chair up to the man's table. "So, what do you want? More information?"

"Not exactly." CTA-132 said pulling out a list and handing it to the man. He felt it and frowned.

"You know, you're an ass." He said handing the piece of flimsiplast back."

"Sorry." CTA-132 said insincerely. "I really couldn't resist." He handed him a small recording device, on which he'd recorded himself saying all the information he'd need. The man listened for a few moments, then nodded.

"Right, I can find out most of this right here in this bar, but there are a few pieces that will take longer. A couple of weeks at least." CTA-132 nodded, than caught himself.

"I can wait. Also, I'd like to hire some muscle. Some professional muscle." He added with emphasis. The man nodded and reached for a comlink in his pants pocket.

"I can set up a meeting with a squad of mercs I personally recommend. They owe me a favor, and I owe you a favor, so this one will be on the house. Agreed?"

CTA-132 smiled and left. "Tell them to meet me at the spaceport. And have them bring their weapons."

* * *

CTA-132 surveyed the men. As far as he could tell, they were all hard core fighter. C-41, who was standing beside him, seemed to have realized this and was being careful to keep his weapon in a ready position. There were only four, but they were big guys with bigger guns. There was one man named Radlir who looked like some type of survival expert. Most of his scars seemed to have been acquired hunting beasts, not humans, meaning that very few sentient species had ever gotten close enough to scar him. He was quiet and collected, and out of all of them, probably the most violent. The quiet ones always were. The other two were twins. CTA-132 hadn't bothered asking their names, but he knew they were stealth men from their wiry frames and the way they were dressed in drab clothing. Of course, they also carried a disassembled E-Web repeating blaster between them, hardly subtle. Finally, there was their leader, a big fella by the name of Gerik. He was probably the most dangerous. His broad shoulders had a powerful blaster slung over it, but more importantly, he looked like a man who could handle himself in head to head, hand to hand combat. His muscles bulged with muscle and thrust into his belt were a pair of brass knuckle trench knives. Judging from their wear and tear, they'd seen some serious use.

"Kadrick says we work for you now." The big leader Gerik said."CTA-132 smiled slightly at their stupidity; not that they could see. He'd put his armor and helmet back on as soon as he'd gotten to the ship, in order to conceal his face. Plus, the ARC armor tended to intimidate people. CTA-132 was smiling because he doubted that Kadrick was really the old man's real name. In fact, he'd begun to doubt whether he had one at all.

"I suppose that makes two of us." CTA-132 thought quietly. He turned to the men, trying to decide what their relationship would be like. Fear or partnership. Such a difficult decision.

"Gentleman, I require certain services that can only be accomplished by esteemed gentleman such as you." The men looked at him, clearly bored by the fancy speech. CTA-132 continued.

"As you have no doubt realized by now, my partner and I are Imperial intelligence. We have been tasked with hunting down certain traitors to the Empire." The mercenaries stiffened at this. It looked like they all had an idea where this was going.

"Therefore, my partner and I are setting a trap, and you, gentlemen, are going to provide us with the bait." There was an outpour of grumbling at this and quiet protesting. Gerik held up his hand and the men fell silent. He stepped forward and pulled one of his trench knifes from his belt.

"Do you know what this is?" Gerik said twirling the knife around his fingers. "It's a ceremonial weapon my planet has made for those who manage to slay a Jexel pack on my home planet Neftali. They're stealthy hunters and only come out at night, which is when we must hunt them. Do you know what it's like to go from the hunter to the hunted? To know that out in the darkness a feline menace is following you, waiting for you to trip once so they can strike from the night. It is terrifying. The Jedi have hidden themselves, and if we are meant to search them out, well, I won't be a part of that. It'd be worse than hunting Jexel."

"I've hunted a lot of prey." Radlir added stoically. "Most of the time, hunts don't work out well for the bait."

"They're scared." CTA-132 thought incredulously. "Scared of two little Jedi children." Apparently, the Jedi had made quite a name for themselves over the years. CTA-132 pulled out a small holodisk and activated it. Miniature versions of their prey floated in front of them. Stolen from the Jedi Archives, these profiles were one of the few leads they had regarding the Jedi children.

"Look," CTA-132 said pointedly, "That's what you're hunting. Not Jexel, not some cunning warrior. Just a pair of children. Really, what could you possibly have to lose by taking this job?" The mercenaries looked at the holograms intently. Gerik looked thoughtful, stroking his roughly shaven face. Finally, one by one, they nodded.

"All right trooper." Gerik said with a sigh. "What exactly do we have to do?"

Back on the ship, all six of them were standing around an enlarged hologram of the galaxy. It was used primarily for navigation, but CTA-132 had converted it, through some creative slicing, into a fully tactical map, able to zoom in and out and give multiple views of any battlefield that could be seen by the ships sensors.

"This is our target." CTA-132 said gesturing grandly at the whole map. The mercenaries chuckled slightly and Gerik shook his head.

"Unless you're going to tell us that there's a Jedi hidden on every planet in the known galaxy, and I doubt it, you'd better have a point to all this."

"Oh," CTA-132 said with a nod. "I do." He activated one of the advanced functions of the star map, and it zoomed in on a cluster of planets within the Core worlds. "Jedi have an interesting habit of turning up wherever there's trouble; trying to save the day and all that."

"I said you mercenaries would provide the bait." He continued pointedly. "I certainly never expected you to be the bait yourselves. You four will create death and destruction on a highly populated world; one that will get lots of publicity. Meanwhile, we will wait in the background The Jedi come to try and solve the violence, thereby revealing themselves. Then, while they're distracted by you, we come up behind them and stab them in the back. It's quick; it's clean; and presents minimal risk towards you." He ended with a abruptly, waiting for their responses. The men all looked thoughtful, weighing the odds.

"Well," Gerik said after a minute or so. "I see no reason why we can't be good patriotic Imperials and give some help to the cause. What do you lads say?" The mercenaries gradually nodded and smiled.

"It's a good plan." Gerik said to CTA-132, "But I'm curious what planet you want to hit first."

"Well," C-41 interjected. "If we use standard hyperspace lanes and jumps; the nearest major city is Chandrila. It's big, its people are pacifists, and it will get a lot of media coverage." CTA-132 nodded and began walking towards the cockpit.

"Chandrila it is." He said over his shoulder.

**_Not a terrible chapter, but I didn't know how to make it any longer without making it sound awkward. Anywho, thanks for Reading and Reviewing. Merry Christmas!_**


	23. Chapter 23 Sparring

**_Scout Versus Semreh. I've got to confese, I'm not very good at fight scenes, so if anyone has any advise about how to, please include that in your review._**

Semreh and Scout stood facing each other, sabers humming besides them. Semreh's green saber spun as Semreh fell into a Form IV stance. Known as Niman or the Diplomats Form. Despite its ferocious nickname, it was a combination of all the other five standard forms. As such, the user would have few strengths, but also few weaknesses. Still, Semreh always felt that the style's balance didn't give him the edge he needed in combat. Several times he had considered changing styles to something more specific, but the war had always gotten in the way.

Across the cargo room, Scout dropped into her own style, Form I. A simple form based on improvisation and mastery of the basic skills, it was a constant plodding form based on relentlessly forcing the enemy back. It was a simple style, but in its simplicity lay its strength. She let her saber fall into a

"Temple rules." Scout said loudly from across the room. "Three blows, one to the neck, or until one surrenders or is incapacitated."

"Fine by me." Semreh shouted back grinning. Semreh hadn't dueled anyone for a long time, and was looking forward to it. It was one thing to deflect blaster bolts and slash through those skinny little battle droid, but dueling required a different skill and ferocity. Semreh had always been all right at dueling, except for one thing.

Suddenly, Scout burst into action, sprinting across the floor. Semreh steadied himself, angling his blade to block her downward slash. Their sabers clashed and the fight was on.

Scout wasn't the best fighter she knew. There were plenty others whose blade work was better than hers, and almost everyone had the advantage over her when it came to Force powers. Unlike most Jedi, Scout would have a real hard time fighting in the dark or defending against attacks through the Force. However, when it came to sheer grit and determination, no one was tougher than Scout. Her grappling and hand to hand skills were also superb and if she could get you in an arm lock, or strike one of your pressure points, game over. More important than that though was her cunning and willingness to sometimes go farther than her fellow Jedi. This willingness sometimes seemed borderline dark side, but Scout certainly hadn't come close to falling yet.

Spinning away from Semreh, Scout turned and whipped her saber towards Semreh's right leg. Semreh leapt backwards, back flipping and pushing off with his hands to add distance. He landed five yards away, sliding a few feet before stopping, one hand on the ground to steady himself, the other holding his lightsaber down and to the side. He looked up and grinned at her mockingly. Scout smiled back coolly, settling into a defensive stance. Semreh leapt, jumping high and swing his blade down onto Scout. She held her saber high, letting the blow push her to the ground so that her back was braced against the floor. Semreh pushed down, throwing his whole body into pressing her saber back towards her. If he managed to get her own saber to her neck, it would be over. Desperately, Scout lashed out with her legs, kicking Semreh's ankle. He fell with a grunt, knee buckling. Scout rolled to the side and slashed with her saber, trying to catch her fellow padawan by surprise. Semreh swung his saber and caught hers inches before it struck in the thigh. Spinning away, he sent a Force push towards her, it struck her, sending her reeling backwards. She recovered and jumped backwards onto a pile of crates as Semreh sent another powerful Force push towards her. She spun away as the push thrust the crate she was standing on out from under her. Running atop the crates staked along the wall, she ran, gaining momentum and height. Semreh followed her, trying to topple her from afar with blasts of the Force. Scout dodged and wove until she jumped forward, leaping the distance between two crates. Then, she felt the Force surge around her. Immediately, she knew that Semreh's next burst would land right in front of her. She twisted bracing her feet against the wall and, with a sudden, unexpected burst of the Force, kicked off the wall, propelling her straight towards a shocked Semreh. She hit him like a comet, tackling him to the ground.

Semreh was many things. A fighter wasn't really one of them. He hated to admit it, but when he fought a fellow living breathing person, he seemed to lose whatever edge it was that let others thrive in combat. It wasn't that he hadn't fought well against the Seperatists; it's just that he was the guy controlling the dejarik pieces, not fighting alongside them. It sounded like cowardice, but Semreh believed in playing the sabbac cards dealt to him. His master was the same way. Normally, when in combat, they resorted to tricks with the Force or their superior teamwork to emerge victorious. So, as Semreh tried to keep Scout from reaching one of the pressure points on his neck, he was also searching for anything to pull himself out of this predicament. Seeing a lamp hanging above them, he smiled. Feigning a punch right towards Scouts face, he opened his hand, and pulled with the Force. The lamp fell, but his move had left his defenses open on one side. Finding a pressure point on his arm, she jabbed swiftly and jumped backwards. Semreh felt his right arm go numb, along with the rest of him as he saw the lamp falling towards his head. Raising his other arm, he caught it in a Force grip and sent it spinning towards Scout who neatly sliced it in half. She laughed and made a little flourish with her lightsaber.

"Ready to give up yet?" She called.

"Not yet…" Semreh said looking around the room. He stood for a minute, then, had an idea. He tried meditating, focusing his mind on the point behind his eyes, in the rear of his head. He felt everything change and he felt himself floating up, as though he could see every part of the battlefield at once. He saw the crates stack against the far wall, the broken shards of the lamp lying around Scout, and the one crate in particular, labeled H2O. He smiled and opened his eyes. Scout was looking confused, but nonetheless, charged forward, intent on finishing the fight before he could recover movement in his right arm. Semreh put his strategy into action. First, the shards from the lamp rose up, whizzing at her from several directions at once. Most were small and harmless, but there were several larger metal chunks that could have incapacitated Scout.

Scout had few Force powers she could use naturally, but occasionally, she had one that came in handy. Precognition allowed her to see what her opponent was going to do before even they knew it. Using this, she managed to dodge all sizable pieces of metal that were thrown at her. However, she was so focused on these; she almost didn't see the two crates that came crashing towards her from behind. She turned, slashing one in half and dodging the other one, letting it slide past her and straight towards Semreh, who stopped it with the Force. Scout saw Semreh breathing hard; this much use of the Force must be wrecking havoc on his concentration. She decided that if she was to win, she'd have to end it now. Spinning her blue lightsaber through her fingers, she jumped through the air, intent on slashing through the crate and surprising him. Her blade drove through the crate and deactivated with an unexpected hiss. Scout stared at it in shock for a few seconds before jumping backwards to avoid a spinning slash from Semreh. She looked at the crate and groaned. From where her lightsaber had burned through the metal, water was pouring.

"Who stores water in metal crates?" She yelled in irritation throwing her deactivated lightsaber to the ground.

"He was three steps ahead of me that whole time." She thought stunned. "So this is why the Council was considering him for Knighthood." She dropped into an unarmed fighting stance while Semreh readied his lightsaber, preparing to counter whatever attack she had planned. As they were about to move, a voice yelled out from behind them.

"Enough!" Sonya walked in, flanked by Bolt and another guard. "Would you guys mind? We can here you on the other side of the ship."

"Sorry." Scout said shrugging. "We didn't realize we were being so loud. Got to stay in shape you know." Sonya looked around the room at the carnage they'd made.

"Yeah, well if you could just limit the chaos to this room, I'm sure you'd make everyone breathe a little easier." Semreh nodded and the padawans walked up to them.

"You didn't come over here just to tell us to quiet down did you?" She shook her head solemnly.

"There's something you both need to see."

Semreh and Scout were standing around the room with the rest of the guerilla officers, watching a holovid feed while Zraii tried to fix it so it had better reception.

"It's not as easy as it looks." He said, torso buried behind wires and machinery. "We've got to keep our signature down while also picking up as much as we can from the Holonet."

"Just do the best you can." Bren said reassuringly. "We just need to be able to hear what Palpatine is saying."

"Palpatine?" Scout said curiously.

"He's addressing the whole senate in a special session of Congress." Sonya said seriously. "So he must have something he wants the whole galaxy to know. And whatever it is, it's probably not good for us."

"Yeah," Bolt said, "Nothing like an enemy who advertises his own intelligence over the public news network." Semreh snorted slightly with laughter and Bolt stared at him emotionlessly.

"What, "he said raising his hands. "I thought it was funny." They turned back to watch Zraii work on the fuzzy picture until finally, the holo snapped into clarity.

"Got it!" Zraii shouted triumphantly. He pulled himself out and turned to watch the holo with the rest of them. Atop a podium in front of the Senate, Palpatine was preparing to give his speech. Raising his hands, he began.

"Senators from across the galaxy." His amplified voice boomed. "I come to you today to report a great victory for the Empire. On the planet of Kessel, a group of Jedi gathered within the abandoned spice mines to discuss ways of further disabling the Empire and harming its citizens. However, before they could put their evil plan into action, one of our Imperial commanders, Darth Vader, took the initiative and attacked them for the glory of the Empire, slaughtering fifty Jedi traitors from bring harm to the Empire. This victory will serve as a reminder to the galaxy about what the Empire stands for. We will not bend to the will of these Jedi terrorists. We will not rest until they and any other traitors are hunted down. We will have piece. We will have order!" With that, he slammed his fists upon his podium, and the Senators burst into cheering. Sonya snorted and Bren laughed openly as the holo shut off with a snap.

"What's so funny?" Semreh asked sharply. "We might have just loss fifty powerful masters of the Jedi Order. They could have been our allies."

"I'm sorry Semreh," Bren said chuckling. "It's just so obviously a lie."

"A lie?" Scout said worriedly. "Are you sure?"

"No…" Sonya said eyeing her out of the corner of her eye, "But it's highly unlikely that that many Jedi could organize that quickly. No, this seems more like a political stunt by the Emperor. It will cement both the Empire's and this Vader's reputation. They have the most to gain."

"Still," Semreh insisted, "If there are Jedi still alive there, we have to find them. They could be of great help if we could convince them to join us." Bren and Sonya looked at each other nervously, and Bolt stepped forward, stoic face masking any emotion.

"That would not be a good idea." He said voice low. "The men are already nervous about fighting alongside two Jedi. Add a few more in…"

"And there could be an open revolt." Sonya finished. "I see your point. But what do we do?"

"We ignore them." Bolt said. "Bring in any Jedi we come across, but don't go looking for them. That way, we remain as hidden as possible."

"We've stolen a whole Assault Ship." Semreh exasperated, "How could we have gone unnoticed."

"Point taken." Bolt said, "But no need in drawing even more heat down on us." He left the room abruptly, striding towards a group of troopers who had just entered the bridge.

"Is he angry?" Semreh said uncertainly. "Seriously, I can never tell." Bren shrugged and looked at Sonya.

"We've known him for several years, and we still can't tell."

The next day, Scout and Semreh were shaking hands in the hanger. Semreh was dressed in a flight suit and was carrying a large backpack on his back. He had a flight helmet on his head and a pair of goggles around his neck.

"Be sure to keep in touch." Scout said smiling. "Don't get shot down. Remember what happened the last time you flew one of these." Semreh winced and looked at the Jedi interceptor behind him. They'd found it in the back of the hanger, abandoned. Semreh tried not to think about what Jedi it may have belonged to last, or how he or she lost it.

"I'll be sure to remember that." Semreh turned and began clambering into the brown painted fighter. "Remember to lie low while on Naboo. They aren't occupied yet, but it's only a matter of time till the Empire makes a move."

"Oh, lighten up." Scout retorted cheerfully. "I'm not going alone." She jerked her thumb towards the Arrow, which was being loaded with weapons and guerillas. Sonya was directing them and making sure everything went according to plan.

"Good," Semreh sighed. "That'll be a load off my mind."

"Hey, I can take care of myself. Remember how I beat you."

"Beat me," Semreh laughed. "I deactivated your lightsaber."

"And I disabled your arm." Scout countered. "So we're tied so far."

"Rematch when I get back." Semreh offered. "I'll let you have some of your pride back." Scout smiled at the joke and any remaining tension about their departure lifted.

"Deal."

**_Please Read and Review. Thanks to everyone. Next one, I'm planning to release on the 24th. Merry Christmas!_**


	24. Chapter 24 Jedi Funeral

_**At first, this chapter was the first half of a whole chapter, but I didn't want them combined, so I split them up. I'll add the other half later.**_

Semreh's ship jerked from hyperspace, but not over Melida/Daan. Before him, the misshapen planet Kessel sat like a massive asteroid.

"I'll just go look." He told himself. "I just want to see." If there were Jedi down there, he needed to find them. He and Scout alone couldn't keep the Jedi teachings alive. They needed a master, someone who had studied the Force and could teach them both of its intricacies, and if there had been Jedi hiding on Kessel, there might be some who escaped.

Using his sensors, Semreh scanned the system. There was a ground base and maybe a few squadrons of fighters, but nothing that would be able to regulate illegal traffic or catch single ships slipping through the atmosphere. Kessel itself was a prison world, home to the galaxies worst criminals who spent the rest of their days mining for spice and glitterstim on its thin or nonexistent atmosphere. Within the mines, most people were forced to wear special oxygen masks in order to survive. Even then, the Energy Spiders that produced glitterstim would often ambush miners, dragging them into the darkest parts of the mine to be devoured.

As his ship broke through the atmosphere, the barren plains before him were completely devoid of any landmark or sign that gave away his destination. There were mines that pockmarked the ground, but they all looked the same to him. Occasionally, a prison would break the doldrums, but even they were indistinguishable from each other.

"This is ridiculous." Semreh thought shaking his head. "I could be here for months at this rate." Reaching out with the Force, he began scouring the planet for something, anything that indicated a mass gathering of Force sensitives, or their deaths. Finally, he found it. A gap amongst the fear and hate of Kessel, where the faint remnants of light still flickered. Semreh followed this, letting the Force guide his ship lower and lower until he was skimming just a few meters above the surface. He began to slow as he felt the source of the disturbance in the Force approaching. Ahead of him, a cavernous hole opened before him, one of the many abandoned mines of Kessel. Swinging his ship around, Semreh landed on the edge and jumped from the ship. Putting on a rebreather Semreh looked down into the hole. Below him, the abandoned mine was devoid of life; neither the Force nor his eyes sensed anything.

"Still," he thought igniting his lightsaber, "no point of being reckless." He jumped into the hole, falling for several meters before landing in a crouched position. At the bottom, wind was blowing the sand about for some reason impeding his vision. In addition to the dark, it completely blinded him.

"This doesn't make any sense." Semreh said pulling the goggles around his neck over his eyes and wrapping his robes tightly around his body and face so they covered his mouth. "There shouldn't be any wind down here. There wasn't any on the surface." Wind rippling his robes, Semreh plunged into the darkness.

A few hours later, Semreh was standing before a door that stood along the wall of one of the tunnel. Thrusting his lightsaber into the door, he cut through durasteel and stepped inside. The room was large, one of the chambers where miners would have used heavy equipment to cut through the rocks. At one time, there would probably have been many machines and pieces of equipment. Not now though. Now, the remnants of battle were everywhere. Much of the equipment was intact, but many hoversleds lay upside down or destroyed while the ground was marked with signs of blasterfire. Along the walls, the telltale sign of lighsaber scarring still marred the metal and rock. And there, scattered throughout the room, were bodies. Semreh turned and used the Force to block the hole with a piece of scrap metal, sealing the air inside. He slid the goggles from his eyes and lowered his hood. There was breathable air in the chamber so he took the rebreather off and attached it to his belt. He went to the first body and turned it over gently. It was a young woman. She had brown hair, and her blue eyes looked upwards in horror. An inch sized whole was carved into her chest, the remnant of a lightsaber thrust and was missing a hand.

"When did clone troopers start using lightsabers?" he thought. "Unless…Could Anakin have done this!?" It made sense, sending Jedi to kill Jedi, but the Emperor had said a Darth Vader had done this. Was Anakin under this Darth Vader's command?

Semreh continued wandering about, observing the bodies and saying a few words of prayer to each of them. Everyone he found was another sledgehammer blow to his insides. They were dead, all dead. Deep inside, he'd hoped one or two may have survived, but now his hope was dying, strangled with every body he found. Finally, Semreh came to one that made him pause in horror. It was Bultar Swan. She had a saber wound burned into her stomach and was sprawled upon the floor. He knelt beside her, insides tearing apart. She had been a skilled Jedi guardian and martial arts expert. In fact, before Geonosis, she'd never been forced to kill an opponent. To see her dead…

"Whoever did this was skilled in lighsaber combat." Semreh said with a frown. Bultar had been inserted with his master on Sluis Van to help their people rebel against the Separatist government. By the time they'd been evaced, she'd saved his live dozens of times. Semreh fell backwards, touching his face in horror. A wave of bile tried to crawl up his throat, but he forced it back down. Another dead comrade. By the Force, the list was getting long.

"I can't just leave them here." He thought horrified. "I've got to do something." For the next several minutes, Semreh went from body to body, gathering them up and placing them gently in the center of the room. There were eight Jedi, all Knights. Semreh recognized few of them, only Bultar and Master Tsui Choi. Still, the body count was depressing. Drawing his holdout blaster from his robes, Semreh removed the cloaks of three of the Jedi, leaving them in their tunics and combat armor. He used the Force to place them side by side, close enough that they touched each other. He hired a low energy bolt into each robe. The bolts didn't burn through as quickly as full power, instead starting a small fire around the fringe of the whole. The fire began to spread outwards and Semreh gently draped the cloaks over Bultar and the others. Their bodies began to catch fire as the robes disintegrated. The fire spread and in moments, they were all burning. Semreh muttered a prayer and left, using the Force to seal the room with a small avalanche of rocks behind him.

Back out in the tunnel, Semreh put his goggles and rebreather back on and began walking towards the entrance. He barely felt his legs moving, or the sand biting at his neck. His body felt numb and shocked. It was an intense feeling, and he almost didn't notice the flashes of light that burned through the tunnel sand storm.

"Blasterfire." He said crouching into one of the small doorways in the tunnel. He looked around the corner and saw a squad of troopers sprinting down the hallway, firing as they went. Semreh drew his blaster and returned fire, catching one of them in the chest. The trooper stumbled, but struggled to his feet, still firing. The holdout blaster was too weak to pierce their armor at this range and if they got to close, not even his lighsaber would keep him alive. He fired a few more shots, than drew his saber.

"Looks like this is it." He thought igniting his saber and getting to his feet. He turned and stepped into a hail of fire. His saber flared spinning and sending bolts flying back into the clones. Two fell and the rest jumped for cover, still pouring fire on. It would all be over soon…

The clone's fire stopped. Semreh looked on as each clone jumped back, yelping in pain. A second later, they began to fall, one by one and Semreh's hair stood straight up, as if the air was charged with energy. All twelve dropped, blasters clattering besides them. Semreh squinted, trying to see through the storm of sand. A second later, the sand fell, dropping to the ground as the howling wind instantly stopped. Down the tunnel, a man dressed in a long cloak was standing, hunched over, hand extended and gently placed on the metal side of the tunnel. Semreh could feel the Force humming about this man. The very air seemed charged with his presence.

"Well," the man rasped straightening himself. "It appears that the Jedi haven't lost their ability to set off every trap they come across."

**_Got to go. Johnny Bravo Christmas is on :)_**


	25. Chapter 25 A Queen's Support

The _Arrow_ smoothly dropped out of hyperspace, its weapons online, shields cranked up to maximum. Before it, Naboo turned slowly, a gem amongst the dark space.

"Sensors showing minimal orbiting presence around the planet, ma'am. We are undetected." Sonya nodded at the pilot, a young man in his 20's or 30's.

"Gun it." The pilot pushed the throttle forward and the _Arrow_ hurtled towards Naboo. The _Arrow_ was fast and sleek, making it extremely fast for a freighter. Sonya suspected its original purpose was to smuggle goods past blockades. However, as they approached something caught Sonya's eye on the port side.

"N-1 Starfighters coming in from above." The pilot said urgently. "They're right on our blind spot. Orders?"

"Tell the tail gunner to stand down." Sonya commanded. "We're here to negotiate, and we could use an escort anyways. Killing allies wouldn't be a great way to start." The comm on the consol blinked and the pilot answered.

"This is Captain Gavin Sykes of the Royal Security Force. Purpose and destination please." Sonya leaned forward to speak into the comlink. In front of them, a squadron of N-1's began to circle like wolves, pilots carefully watching the _Arrow_.

"This is the courier vessel _Arrow_. We have an urgent message for the Royal Government of Naboo. Request permission to land within the city of Theed. We are…old friend's one of her predecessor's government." There was a pause again, then Gavin's picture appeared again.

"By order Queen Apailana, you are ordered to approach Theed on these vectors and land your ship within the Royal hanger. Be advised, if you try anything suspicious, I personally will blow your ship into ions." The captain terminated their link with a small click.

"Always polite these security forces." Scout said sarcastically. Sonya sighed and dropped into a seat.

"What did you expect, a party. We aren't exactly arriving under the best conditions."

"Why?" Scout asked leaning over to read the approach vectors.

"Because, the Jedi killed the Senator from Naboo."

"What!" Scout exclaimed. "When?"

"Just after Order 66." Sonya calmly explained. "Supposedly she was assassinated as a part of the Jedi plot and counterattack. Then again, that is what Palpatine says."

"Yeah, everything he says is so reliable." Scout shook her head. "It's a lie you know."

Sonya shrugged and turned back to watch the approaching planet. "Whether it's true or not hardly matters. What matters is that the Queen may not be sympathetic to Jedi right now, so try and keep your whole…Jediness to yourself." Scout opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again. Sonya was right. Still, Scout hoped to convince the Queen to help them. At the very least, maybe the Queen might be able to provide them with intelligence on any remaining Jedi.

The Queens Reception chamber was large enough to hold virtually the whole guerilla squad inside it comfortably, which was good because Sonya did not feel at all comfortable leaving her men and the security forces outside by themselves. As soon as her men had seen the spit polished security officers, and as soon as the security officers had seen her rag tag group carrying everything from knives to blaster cannons, they'd eyed each other like a pair of territorial dogs. Even now, while standing behind her and trying to look as professional as possible, she could feel their tension. At least this way, Sonya could keep a closer eye on them. It had taken an hour or two, but finally, they were admitted.

The Queen was sitting behind a desk before them, hands folded elegantly on her desk, face passively waiting for Sonya to begin her story. She was flanked by two high ranking officers, Captain Gavin Sykes, a hero of the Naboo resistance, and Gregor Typho, who had once been chief of security to Padme Amidala. They looked on at the group of guerillas, no doubt nervous having this many armed men before the queen. Sonya wondered why they'd even allowed it. No doubt the Queen had some reason, but still.

Besides Sonya, Scout was fidgeting slightly, anxious to begin the negotiations. She had disquised herself in one of the guerrilla's flak jacket uniforms and had hidden her lightsaber in one of her boots. No point in taking any chances at discovery, but also no point in being unarmed when the time came.

"I am Queen Apailana of Naboo." The Queen began articulately, "Who are you and why have you decided to invade our airspace." Sonya stepped forward and bowed respectfully to the woman. Scout followed suit.

"My apologies for arriving unannounced." Sonya began in a voice loud enough for everyone to here. "I know you don't get a lot of traffic to your planet and the arrival of mysterious ships in your system probably worries you."

"Not as much as what the ship is carrying." Apailana countered. "Which in this case looks like a squad of heavily armed commandos who looked like they've just spent the last week in a trash compacter."

"You must understand the situation." Captain Sykes interjected. "With the installation of Palpatine's New Order, the Royal Security Force, and through us the power of the Queen, may be severally limited. Therefore, we need to show the Empire that we can protect our sector without the need of clone troopers. Otherwise, they'll see fit to post a garrison here." Sonya nodded to show she understood, than gestured to the men behind her.

"It is the Empire we've come to warn you about. We believe that they will begin moving against the Outer Rim planets soon." The Queen and her officers looked surprised by this and Captain Sykes pulled a comlink from his belt and, with a nod from the Queen, walked into one of the side rooms. Captain Typho looked at the Queen who indicated with a wave of her hand for him to remove all the security officers from the room. Sonya waved her hand, and her own guerillas followed suit. Scout stayed, staring at the silent and apparently well rehearsed act of creating secret conversations.

"My own sources have been quiet on Imperial movements." Queen Apailana said once the room was empty, save the three of them. "We believe they're bribed or threatened into not providing us with Imperial intentions."

"All of them?" Sonya said surprised. "How could the Empire have gotten to all of them so quickly?"

"We can only assume that Palpatine has been planning this since the Clone Wars. Maybe we've been misinformed since then, in an effort to confuse Separatist sympathizers. Either way, it creates a disconcerting situation. And there is another problem." She reached beneath her desk and pulled out a small holo projector. Activating it, Sonya saw a small security officer slowly spinning before them, the famous Captain Panaka.

"Captain Panaka has become unusually friendly with Imperial forces it seems." She looked thoughtful as the figure continued to rotate before them. "We've intercepted private communications between him and Palpatine's Office. It appears that they have a close relationship." Sonya rubbed the back of her neck, groaning.

"Let me guess," She said, "he's a spy."

"We don't know how or when, but Panaka is now effectively working for Palpatine. Therefore, my council and I have kept him busy, but not in a way that he feels he's left out. He still has an enormous amount of influence with the security force and could probably be a major problem if Palpatine starts to set up a garrison here. He could make sure no resistance efforts were attempted." Sonya nodded and took the small Panaka hologram. He was a professional soldier and something of a legend among Outer Rim soldiers. Sonya herself had heard of his exploits over the years and during the Naboo invasion.

"So," Apailana continued, "I don't know what you want to discuss, but whatever it is, we must be careful about what we say. Here, in this room, we may speak frankly for a time. So, what do you wish to talk about?" Sonya grabbed one of the chairs before the desk while Scout stood nearby.

"We would like to discuss the prospects of an Alliance between the Naboo and our…organization. Tell me what your views on the Empire are."

"Publicly, I believe the Empire is the only solution to a stagnant and corrupt Republic. Privately, the Jedi and the Republic saved Naboo from destruction twice. I can't imagine that they would assassinate Senator Amidala and attempt to overthrow the Republic. I ordered our own investigation into the events surrounding Senator Amidala's death, though of course, Palpatine blocked our investigation for security reasons. Since then, I've ordered my council and security fotce to ensure that any Jedi who managed to escape be given refuge here."

"Really." Scout said in an interested voice. "You have! That's great! Have you managed to loca-"She fell quiet as Sonya gave her a withering look, but the damage was done. Apailana looked at them, studying them with renewed interest.

"You understand that any enemy of the Empire is an ally of us." Sonya said carefully. "If would permit, we need supplies and bases from which to strike, and volunteers with which to fight the enemy. If you support us from afar, we could draw the attention of the Empire away from you. A mutually beneficial agreement, yes." Queen Apailana leaned back, steepling her fingers. She watched them, eyes flicking between Scout and Sonya. Sonya was careful to keep her face impassive and emotionless, but she felt like she was being easily read by the politically experienced queen.

"You're Jedi, aren't you?" Sonya and Scout exchanged looks, worry passing between them.

"Well," Sonya began hesitantly, "She is." Sonya then explained to the Queen how they'd come to Naboo, how they'd hijacked an Acclamator and how they were looking for allies to fight the Empire. How Scout and a fellow Jedi had fled the Temple and were looking for several survivors. They told her almost everything, save the Mandalorian's involvement, which no one knew about except Scout and Semreh. By the end of their explanation, the Queen looked thoughtful and, for some reason, not at all surprised.

"I have no doubt there are others like you who wish to take the fight to the Empire right away, but why would you come to Naboo? We have virtually no army, no real political authority, and no reason to go to war. I ask again; why come here?"

"Because, you trust the Jedi." Scout said, "And because once, we worked together to bring the Trade Federation to justice. And because, you owe us." Queen Apailina sighed and stood up, fingering the headdress to her elaborate dress.

"Well, I won't be remembered as the Queen who turned her back on those we owed a great debt." She reached down and pressed a small button on her desk. It buzzed and a second later the door to the chamber opened and Captain Sykes walked into the room, pistol halfway out of its holster.

"You rang your highness." He said respectfully. He eyed Scout and Semreh like an attack dog.

"Put that away Sykes." The Queen commanded. "These two and their companions are our friends and allies. I am placing you and your squadron under their command. You are all to leave immediately." Scout's jaw dropped in shock and Sonya had to admit even she was surprised.

"Yes ma'am." Sykes said grabbing a comlink from his belt and leaving the room. "I'll get the pilots to their ships immediately."

"One thing captain." Queen Apailina said before he left. "You are not to use any call sign that could be traced to Naboo. You and your squadron are to be considered rouge from now on. Do you understand Captain?" The man stiffened and turned. His face looked concerned in the failing light.

"Does this mean what I think it means your highness?"

"Yes Captain," She answered gravely, "Time to begin Operation Hawkbat Shield. You know what to do."

"Absolutely ma'am." He turned and hurried from the room, already talking into his comlink.

"What's operation Hawkbat Shield?" Sonya said, already reaching for her own blaster. The Queen stood up and began pacing the room.

"After Naboo was invaded by the Trade Federation, we set up several contingency plans in case we were ever attacked or threatened with attack again." She was at the consol of her desk now, punching in codes and apparently random sequences of numbers. "The plan in this case is to begin preparations for rapid mobilization of officers. You know, begin a constant alert status for off duty officers and have retired officers subtly prepare for reentry into service. Basically, we are preparing for the time where the Empire moves against us. It could come in a couple of week, it could come in a year, but this alert status will make sure we're ready."

"In the meantime, will you continue to harbor fugitive Jedi?" Scout asked with a small smile. This was so far; better than any of them had hoped for. "It would be an enormous help if you could add to our numbers."

"Of course." The Queen said smiling back. "But do me a favor and do not contact us until you are ready to openly move against the Empire. We would rather our alliance remain a secret for as long as possible, so we may be better prepared."

"As you wish your highness." Sonya said with a bow. "You won't hear from us until the time is ripe." Turning about, they walked as quickly as they could towards the door. Outside, the squad of guerrillas joined them, asking what had happened in there, but Sonya only brushed them off and ordered them to make for the ships as quickly as possible.

Minutes later, they all clambered onto the _Arrow_, which took off with a burst of speed towards space. About halfway towards the atmosphere, they were joined by a squadron of twelve sleek N-1 starfighters, the Queens promised contribution to the cause.

"What are the coordinates for jump, _Arrow_?" Captain Sykes said over the ships comlink. "We need to get out of here before we are missed or spotted by one of our own patrols."

"Here you go Sykes." Sonya said punching in the coordinates to the Acclamators location. "Jump as soon as you're ready."

"Yes ma'am, beginning jump procedures." Moments later, the _Arrow_, the squadron of N-1's, and the newest additions to the Jedi rebellion disappeared in a flash of light.


	26. Chapter 26 Massacre

**_Sorry, this one came out a little long._**

"Who are you?" Semreh said readying his lightsaber. "Are you a Jedi?"

"Hardly." The man said lowering his hood. He was an elderly man with a thin grey beard protruding from his chin and a thin, gaunt face. He was hunched over, like a predator leaning forward in pursuit of his prey. "I am merely a Force sensitive with a deep interest as to why I am suddenly being hunted by stormtroopers."

"Clone troopers." Semreh corrected.

"That's not what Palpatine's calling them now." The man said with a wave of his hand. He bent over, coughing and clutching his side in pain. "Evidently, he changed the name, or something."

"Can he do that?" Semreh said astonished.

"Evidently." The man sighed. He seemed tired, almost bored, as though wiping out a squad of clone, sorry, stormtroopers was an everyday occurrence. He continued to cough occasionally, apparently in poor health.

"Just the type of man we need to fight with us." Semreh thought. "I wonder if I could convince him to join us. To do all that, and as weak as he is physically."

"Anyways," he continued, "I wonder if perhaps you could assist an old man off planet. I'm afraid my time in the mines has left me without a workable ship."

"You were a prisoner?" Semreh asked suspiciously. Few, if any, would be able to afford a full set of clothes. Most were in rags and tattered remnants of prison uniforms.

"Were is the key word there." The man said dismissively. "I escaped quite a while ago using my talents and have been hiding out, running from mine to mine. The storm troopers started coming after me after Order 66, which has disturbed my previously private lifestyle. Now, I'm finding Kessel too crowded and would like to get off planet as soon as possible. So, what do you say?" Semreh thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Alright, I'll get you off planet, but you have to do something for me." The man groaned and gestured eloquently to himself, hand on his chest as if he was offended.

"Did I not just save your life?"

"Please," Semreh said. He snapped hiss lightsaber off with a small hiss. "I need a master, someone who can complete my training. I'm close, but not yet a Jedi Knight. I need someone who can teach me to use the Force and to battle the Empire. You've hidden out here for weeks and the Empire hasn't managed to catch you. You wiped out a whole squad of troopers alone. I need your knowledge to help us. Will you come and teach us how to fight the Empire?" The man thought for a second, face thoughtfully angled upwards.

"This place we'd be heading, is it safe from the Empire?"

"As safe as it gets." Semreh said confidently. "We're hidden in a nearby asteroid belt." The old man smiled and coughed once more. Turning, he began walking towards the entrance of the tunnel

"If you've got a ship," he said over his shoulder before a fit of coughing bent him over. "You've got a deal."

A half hour later, he and the old man were crammed into the ship. Luckily, the Eta-2 Actis-class light interceptor, Jedi interceptor for short, had a small cargo hold just beneath the cockpit. The old man was uncomfortable, but at least he was off Kessel. Normally, these ships had hyperdrive rings that they needed to dock at before jumping to lightspeed, but whoever had owned this ship before had obviously seen the vulnerability of having to protect a lightly armored docking ring and had outfitted the interceptor with a hyperdrive. Not as powerful one as the ring provided, but powerful enough to get it to Melida/Daan in a day or two. As Semreh punched in the coordinates, a loud banging came from the hatch to the cargo hold that sat beneath his feet. Semreh opened it and smiled at the old man.

"Hey, enjoying the ride?"

The old man scowled and turned over so he could look upwards. "I assumed that when you meant a tight space, I'd at least have a place to sit."

"Just sleep for a while all right." Semreh said, "We'll be there in twenty four hours."

"Yeah, easy for you to say. I'm an old man, and haven't done things like this for years."

"Hey by the way," Semreh said throwing the fighter into hyperspace with a jolt. "You said that I was walking into a trap. What did you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious? The Empire publicized the massacre and then left sensors on the site that would detect anyone who entered the mine. Then a local squad could be deployed to find any wandering Jedi that had come looking for advice or guidance. It's simple, but its simplicity is its brilliance."

"True." Semreh said leaning back and closing his eyes. It was going to be long ride.

Chandrila was undoubtedly one of the wonders of the galaxy. An agricultural world, its white cities were nestled amongst its carefully protected countryside. The environment was always on the mind of its pacifist citizens and the careful administrations of its government had long preserved the Crystal Canyons and Gladean State Parks. Politically, the planet's power came from the Mothma family, the most famous of which was Mon Mothma, one of the leading senators in the now Imperial Senate. The planet was also famous for its political debates and more often than not, the most notorious politicians were spawned in its atmosphere. Naturally, this made it an epicenter for media attention, and a prime target for CTA-132's plan to draw out the Jedi.

The three of them, Gerik, CTA-132, and Radlir were hidden atop an abandoned building in front of a massive political rally. C-41 and the twins were across the plaza in a hotel room they'd rented, setting up an E-Web blaster cannon. The rally was clearly anti-Imperial judging by the banners and radicals screaming profanities at the calmly waiting stormtroopers. They would only fire if commanded, and if commanded, CTA-132 knew they wouldn't hesitate. He certainly wouldn't.

"Well, looks like we picked a pretty good day for a massacre." Gerik said looking through the scope of his rifle. "The stormtroopers commander will probably panic and order his own troops to open fire, creating a chain reaction. We won't even be blamed for this one. Boy, I love my job. Nothing like a massacre to liven up your life."

"Yes, but it won't be the last attack." Radlir said carefully polishing his own long barreled rifle. "The Jedi are wary prey and will not be drawn out by anything short of total devastation." He stood and knelt on one knee next to Gerik, sharp eyes slowly scanning the crowd. "For that, we need some help."

"Why?" CTA-132 said leaning against the walls of the dilapidated building. "I think we've got quite a devastating team here."

"True," Radlir said turning and dusting his pants, "But something of that scale requires a big bomb, and none of us here is quite an explosive expert. The closest we've ever come to a large scale bomb was that time Gerik jury-rigged a freighter to blow up over the room one of our bounties was staying in, and that didn't work out to well. Did it Gerik?"

"Hey, I'm the one who lost a toe." Gerik said defensively. He turned and looked at CTA-132 seriously. "Radlir is correct though. For this kind of work, we do need someone who can handle chemicals like detonite. Otherwise, we'll never draw their attention." CTA-132 considered this, stroking the side of his helmet, a habit he did whenever he was deep in thought.

"Do you guys know anyone in your line of work that could provide such skills?" Both the mercs laughed at this and CTA-132 began fingering his wrist blade in irritation.

"You got an extra two hundred thousand credits lying around?" Radlir said with a smile.

"No."

"Then, we don't know anyone like that."

"Then how do you suggest we find an explosive expert?" CTA-132 asked impatiently.

"You don't worry about that." Radlir said hefting his rifle and looking down the scope at the crowd. "We'll have the twins do some digging. We'll find someone in no time."

"Speaking of the twins." Gerik said shielding the sun from his eyes while he looked across the plaza. "Looks like they're in position. Time to start the show." He knelt down behind Radlir and brought his own rifle to his shoulder. CTA-132 drew a pair of grenades from his belt and readied them for detonation.

"Tell the twins to target the crowd while we focus our fire on the stormtroopers." He ordered watching the packed plaza below. "With luck, they'll start killing each other." They obeyed his orders and, moments later, all hell broke loose.

Several troopers that were standing around the stormtrooper battalion's commander fell to rapid shots from Radlir and Gerik. Naturally, he panicked and ordered his men to open fire on the crowd, who was already being mowed down with fire from the twins. The focused on cutting down those at the entrances to the plaza, creating a corral of death with the troopers on one side and the E-Web on the other. Many took their chances and just tried to run across the kill zones. Several made it, but not all. On the other side, the commander had realized his mistake and was trying to get his men to stand down, but with little success. They just kept advancing, firing and hurling grenades into the crowd.

"Well," C-41 thought as he plugged away at the crowd with his rifle. "That's what you get for trying to replace us with inferior clones." He kept at it until the crowd below them was cut in half. He turned to the twins and hand signaled them to follow him down the stairs and to leave the E-Web behind. Silently they obeyed and followed him out of the building. C-41 ditched his rifle, but kept his carbine tucked under the tunic he was wearing. In his armor, he was as conspicuous to non clones as a rancor, but without it, he could easily blend in with the surging crowds. The twins followed him, their thin frames easily slipping through small gaps in the crowd.

Across the plaza, C-41 could see the other three were also abandoning their position and were quickly catching up to them. When they did, CTA-132 stopped and pulled them through several twisting alleys to "lose pursuers" as he put it. When they finally stopped, they were outside the market district of the city, on the stoop of one of the few cheap inns of the city. They went inside, paying for the night as they went by the desk and collapsed in their rooms upstairs. All of them were breathing hard from their experience, except CTA-132 who appeared as calm as ever.

"Excellent work gentlemen. We've made a good start today." He turned on the holovid and pictures of the massacre immediately were onscreen. In fact, every channel on the Holonet seemed to be showing images of advancing stormtroopers and gunned down civilians.

"The media loves this stuff." Gerik said boots propped on a table while he reclined on a couch. "This will get people's attention, and hopefully a few Jedi will come running to save the day."

"Yes," C-41 said running his hands through his hair. "I just hope they're our Jedi." CTA-132 looked at C-41, head cocked.

"Got some type of moral quandary you'd like to present?" C-41 shook his head and stood up.

"I don't mind killing Jedi. I don't even mind killing civilians. Collateral damage you know. It's killing fellow clones I don't like."

"Not more of that "we're all brothers podo"." CTA-132 said mockingly. "Yes, I'm sure you lower class soldiers all want to be friends, but ARC troopers and Assassins are trained differently. We're brothers till we stab you in the back. Just remember that if you have any second thoughts, cause if you hesitate, I won't." He walked into his own room, slamming the door behind him, leaving C-41 with a desperate urge to plug a blaster bolt between his shoulders.

Alright you two," Gerik said quietly into his comlink. It was a few hours after their attack on the plaza and Gerik had taken the twins out on a little side mission of their own. "You two know what to do. In and out, nice and easy."

After all, it was necessary for them to find an explosives expert, and the best place to do that was to sneak into the place that knew everything about everyone of Chandrila's citizens; the Capital databank. There, profiles for the millions of people on Chandrila were kept in holodisks according to subject, and all could be accessed via a massive super computer. Of course, such information was under heavy guard, but for the twins it would be nothing. Gerik watched as the pair of wiry shadows hauled themselves into the window of the building. They'd already disabled the alarm and Gerik felt comfortable in knowing that any guard they met would wake up sore, or not at all. About a half an hour later, he saw them again, shimmying down a pipe from the roof.

"Did you get it?" He asked urgently. In response the eldest twin held out his hand, giving him a small disk. Gerik smiled and patted the twin on the shoulder. "Good work. Go ahead and head back to the room. I'll use one of the public terminals to download it off the disk." The twins nodded and hurried away, slinking into the shadows together. Gerik smiled and walked until he found an unused public terminal that was located on an empty street. Inserting the holodisk and placing his datapad into a jack, he watched the screen as the contents were uploaded to his datapad. The information displayed across it was massive, but Gerik soon found the piece he wanted. A young woman's face flashed on the screen in front of him. She had red hair that was interrupted by a single blue dyed stand that fell next to her face. Her eyes were sharp and inquisitive, and just by looking at her, Gerik could see great depth of intelligence.

Name- Jenna Ter

Age- 23

Info- Native of Chandrila. Left by age sixteen to be educated at the University of Alderaan. Studied Chemistry there and soon graduated with flying colors. Noted as an expert in the field and was approached by both the Republic and Confederacy to create weapons. Refused both on grounds of neutrality. Now runs a small orphanage in market sector of Hanna City after her career as a chemist failed when she was blacklisted by the Republic.

Threat level- Moderate chance of pro Separatist terrorism.

Gerik smiled and tucked the datapad into his pants pocket. They'd found their expert.

Jenna Ter sighed and rolled her eyes as screams echoed down her hallway. She dropped the dishes she was washing into the soapy water and briefly wiped her hands on the dark blue apron wrapped round her waist and strode out into the hallway and down to the orphanage beds. Judging by the noise, Alex had stolen Mia's toy again and was holding it over the toddlers head, just out of her reach.

"Those two never stop fighting." She thought resignedly. There were six children here, so as far as orphanages went, this one was not nearly as bad as the stereotype. Chandrila had a low orphan rate, so there were very few children who actually needed help. For those who Jenna looked after, it was more like having a single mother than anything else. She took care of them, educated them, and did everything a mother should do, and they loved her in return. In fact, Jenna always thought she'd adopt the kids herself if she didn't get a nice government paycheck for looking after them.

"After all," she reasoned, "That paycheck somehow always goes straight to their stomachs." She rounded the corner and stepped into Mia's room. It was empty.

"All right," she called with a smile and getting to her knees. "Where are you two hiding?" She playfully searched in ridiculous places, like under toys and holovids that were scattered across the floor, all the while listening to the quiet giggles coming from beneath. Finally, she dramatically lifted the sheets blocking the bottom of the bed, revealing two glowing children's faces. Alex and Mia laughed and shrieked uproariously as Jenna pulled them out from under the bed, tickling as them as they were reluctantly pulled out of their childhood stronghold. The managed to wiggle away from her at last and ran shrieking down the hallway, screaming that Jenna was attacking them.

Jenna reached up to her face and brushed a strand of red hair out of her face. Outside, the kids had left their rooms to listen intently to Alex and Mia's story. When they saw Jenna approaching, they ran, screaming about the horrors of being tickled, all except Jasper, who was watching them, arms folded with a wide grin on his face. He was the oldest of them, about 12, six years older than the second oldest Kara. He normally was the one who helped Jenna with chores and she left him with the children whenever she went out. Basically, he was her eldest son, if not officially.

"They're getting so much bigger." He said looking at her. "I remember when Mia couldn't walk, let alone run like she is now."

"You've gotten older too." Jenna said gently. A flash of worry and sadness flashed across Jaspers face, but was quickly replaced by an almost carefree smile.

"Yeah, soon you'll have to kick me out." He laughed and followed the kids, yelling for them to slow down. Jenna laughed as well, though inside she was kicking herself for reminding Jasper that he would be forced to leave soon. An orphanage was for children after all. Still, this was the only home he'd ever known and she knew he'd miss it dearly. She followed the kids at a small trot into the living room where they were running and jumping with all the energy little kids seemed to radiate.

A knock on the door from the front of the house caught her attention. Telling the children to go start getting ready for bed, she went to answer the door as the thundering of little feet pounding on the stairs sounded behind her. She answered the door, and a grizzled old man in a combat suit greeted her.

"Good evening." He said politely. "My companions and I would like offer you a job, if you have the time."

"Sorry," Jenna said abruptly, "But whatever you're selling, I'm not buying." She tried to close the door in his face, but his hand caught it, holding it open.

"I'm afraid you misunderstand the situation." He opened his mouth to continue, but his comlink beeped. Still holding the door, he answered it while Jenna continued to glare at him.

"Gerik here, go ahead."

"We got the kids, but some little punk was giving us trouble."

"What are you-" Jenna started, then turned and sprinted for the stairs. Jumping stairs too at a time, she came to the hallway outside the refreshers and stopped, dumbstruck. Three men were standing there, blasters drawn and carefully trained on her and the children. Jasper was lying, nose bloodied by the wall, pinned by the boot of one of the mercenaries. Behind her, Jenna heard Gerik walking slowly up the stairs.

"Radlir," he growled angrily, "If you can't control yourself, then I won't bring you along on these types of missions."

"Kid bit right through my glove." Radlir said, eyeing the boy coldly. "You're lucky he's still alive." Jenna lunged forward, desperately trying to reach her children. Radlir reacted swiftly, swinging the butt of his rifle into her stomach. She fell with a grunt of pain, clutching her sides.

"Now, now," Gerik said training his own blaster pistol on her. "That is hardly a way to begin a partnership. I prefer a more cordial approach. For instance, I won't kill your little friends here." Jenna looked up at the man breathing hard.

"You won't?" she said hopefully. Gerik knelt down and gently placed the barrel of his blaster against her cheek.

"No my dear. If they die, it will be because of you." He stood and holstered his pistol, signaling for his men to carry the children outside. "We are hunting someone who, we believe, will only reveal themselves when enough… chaos has been created. That often requires certain, eh, skills that my companions and I do not possess. You, fortunately, do." Jenna watched helplessly as the kids were marched out of the house and loaded onto a pair of landspeeders. They looked terrified and Mia was quietly sobbing as she was loaded by one of the mercenaries.

"You have three days to create enough mayhem that our target reveals itself. Then, we'll let them go."

"And if I refuse." Jenna said fiercely. Gerik laughed and pulled out his pistol. Calmly, he spun it, catching it by the barrel and swung the butt of the gun into her face. It wasn't as hard as he could have made it, but Jenna felt one of her teeth fall shattered from her mouth.

"Don't you worry." Gerik said reholstering his pistol and getting on one knee. He cradled her face in one hand, turning it, studying her. "We won't kill you, oh no. You'll just watch as I skin them alive, one by one."

"You say you want chaos." She said through her bleeding, broken mouth. "But how am I supposed to do that? What do you want me to do?" Gerik grabbed her by the shoulder and hauled her to her feet. He brushed her off and began leading her to the door.

"You're a chemist, I'm sure you'll find very…explosive solutions." He laughed and swung himself into the landspeeder. "Remember, if we don't hear about people dying, you'll hear about a gruesome murder of six sweet innocent chilfren. Oh, and don't call the cops unless you want us to kill them, and your kids." The speeder's engine revved and roared, darting away from Jenna, who fell to her knees, sobbing.

Deep within one of the crystal caves of Chandrila a robed figure was meditating before an ancient tomb. The light from the crystals was glowing faintly as she breathed in and out, trying to calm herself. Pix was dark skinned and wore her hair up in a bun with several long braids falling onto her back. Sitting in the cavern, she remembered how her master had taken her here, to see the tomb of an ancient Jedi master. Of course, that was before the Clone Wars. Before Thrusta. Before her master had been killed by a Selphi bombing run. The recent weeks hadn't helped her situation. Her fighter had been shot down by clone pilots and she'd been forced to play dead and jump from ship to ship until she finally came to Chandrila, all the while nursing a broken leg. Finally, Pix had come to this place, hoping for some form of guidance, or counsel. There was none. Only the cold wind blowing through the canyons. A comlink at her belt beeped, telling her it was time to leave. Getting up with a grunt, she started limping towards the door of the tomb to the waiting speeder that would take her to Hanna city. The driver was in the car, impatiently waiting for her.

"Come on," he shouted, "We have to get back to the city." Pix swung herself in and was thrown back into her seat as the speeder shot forward.

"What's the hurry," she said in an annoyed voice.

"There's been a battle in the capital." He said still trying to tune his Holonet projector. "Some stormtroopers evidently fired on a group of protestors. The man sounded desperately worried, but Pix knew that, from the sound of things, his problems were nothing compared to hers.

**_Thanls for Reading. _**

**_P.S. Pax is from the Jedi: Yoda Comic book._**


	27. Chapter 27 A New Master

**_Sorry for not posting for a while. A combination of upcoming exams and other stuff delayed me. I'd start writing one chapter, then start another, then another, and never seemed to be able to finish one. Weird, huh. For this chapter in particular, i had to check and double check my info. I even bought a book for Christmas about Force powers and Jed (God, I am a nerd)._**

**_Anyways, I have a small question. This may sound weird, but is anyone reading this good at fan art. See, I've always kinda wanted to have an idea of what the readers see and I also kinda wanted to have pictures to go along with this story. Plus, I'm terrible at drawing, even on a computer. Just a small request, no pressure. I know you guys have your own projects. _**

Semreh jerked awake as the interceptor dropped out of hyperspace. The sudden loss of speed caused his head to snap forward and from the storage compartment below, muffled swearing echoed off the metallic walls.

"Could you warn me before we stop like that!?" The old man yelled angrily. "By the Force my heads going to hurt tomorrow." Semreh smiled slightly. For a crotchety old man, he sure had some life in him.

Guiding the interceptor through space, the planet Melida/Daan came into view. The planet looked like a misty green orb against the darkness of space. Sprawling above the planet was a massive space station, at least two or three miles long. It was a hive of activity, with repair droids and ships buzzing around it, carrying supplies and adding to its already massive structure. Flanking it was a pair of cylindrical _Dreadnaught_-class battle ships guarding it against attack. Semreh approached cautiously, sending a friendly com signal to the frigates. As he neared, he noticed that the Dreadnaughts were surrounded by smaller ships, various escort starfighters and Skipray Gunboats. Two of these gunboats peeled off of their patrol vectors and streaked towards Semreh. A second later, his ship's alarm sounded, warning him of a torpedo lock on.

"Oh boy!" He said ramming the stick backwards as the gunboats opened up on him, sending his ship into a sharp climb, "This isn't good."

"What!" the man yelled banging on the metal floor below Semreh. "I told you to warn me before you do this stuff!"

"Little busy right now!" Semreh yelled, stamping onto the floor to emphasis his point. He threw the ship into a spin, trying to shake the torpedoes following him. He climbed, trying to outturn the faster torpedoes, but the little streaks of light continued to follow him. They were on him tight now, and closing. If he didn't do something soon, he was going to end up dead, just particles of flesh and blood floating frozen through space. He tried rolling again, hoping to disrupt it's tracking mechanism, but that didn't work. He tried flipping, tight U-turns, and even released flairs in an attempt to disrupt it.

Then, he had an idea. It was a slim chance, but it might just work. Pushing the interceptor to the limits of its speed, Semreh made a dash for the planet's atmosphere. If he could reach the atmosphere, the overly fast and unprotected torpedoes may burn up on reentry. The slower gunboats followed, but were outmatched by the nimble fighter, as were the Dreadnaughts who failed to target the aggressive little ship. The torpedoes unfortunately, were not. The first one hit the ship dead on from behind. At the last second, Semreh switched all power to his rear shields, but the force of the blast still sent him into a twirling fall towards the surface. Out of the corner of his eye, Semreh could see the smoking remains of his left wing and a second later, that too was pulled off by the whipping winds. The rear of the ship quickly caught fire and smoke began to fill the cockpit. Reaching down in between his legs, Semreh pulled at the ejection cord. Nothing happened.

"Frag!" Semreh cursed inwardly. He grabbed his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it, cutting through the cockpit glass above him. Sparks flew as the tough material burned away and snapped backwards, carried by the howling atmosphere. The wind stung his face. Pulling his goggles over his eyes, Semreh started to crawl back towards the engines. Then, a banging beneath his feet caught Semreh's attention.

"I'm still in here!" The old man called in an annoyed voice. Ripping open the small hatch with the Force, Semreh pulled the man out and into the cockpit.

"Nice flying boy!" He yelled over the howling wind. "The ground is getting a little close though. Have any ideas on how to get out of this?" Semreh looked around desperately, searching for anything he could use to get them out of this predicament. The engines were torn up along with the rest of the ship and no amount of Force power would be able to stop the falling ship, or protect them from impact.

"Looks like this is it." He thought, shutting his eyes as the ground got closer, and closer. He braced himself, ready to feel the jarring shock of death. Instead, he only felt a gentle tug on his flight jacket as he felt his descent slow and his feet left the remains of the fighter. Opening his eyes, he looked up and saw the old man grabbing his color with an old liver spotted hand as he stood above him. But he wasn't standing. The man's feet were not standing on anything, just air. The man was levitating, lifting himself and Semreh with the power of the Force. The strain must have been enormous, but the old man once again looked almost bored.

"Hey," Semreh said with a huge sigh of relief. "I don't think we've been properly introduced yet. I'm Semreh." He extended his hand upwards towards the man. The old man took it and laughed shakily.

"My name is Jolon."

* * *

Falling several thousand feet from space was difficult on the best of days and for Semreh, who had spent the last week in the same old filthy flight suit and jacket, it was not a great opening to his visit to Melida/Daan. Jolon and he had made camp a couple hundred yards from the crash site, just outside a small village. The old man's energy and power with the Force emanated like heat off of a stove, causing Semreh what almost amounted to physical discomfort. Using the Force, the camp was set up quickly, with a small hovel made of branches from nearby trees and a tiny fire in the middle.

According to Semreh's datapad, Melida/Daan was a rough world, largely countryside with a few villages and towns scatter about. Most of the population lived in the major industrial centers like Zehava, the capital. Once a country locked in a century's long civil war between two tribes, the Melida and the Daan, the planet was now at peace and recovering from the horrific conflict. The devastated cities were rebuilding their factories and the space station being constructed above them was probably to become a major trade station. The government was relatively new, but had remained stable so far. It was headed by a ten person Congress that was heavily advised by a president for life who had little power besides their wisdom and direct control over an elite part of the army called the Chasers.

Every military had its elite groups that worked behind the scenes. After the end of the Melida/Daan civil war, there were still armed militias that wanted the war to continue in order to settle old grudges. Naturally, someone had to disarm these groups, but without using a large military operation or army. After all, the majority of the people were sick of constant war. So, the new government decided to create a small elite force trained by off-world mercenaries that would search for these groups and carefully, quietly take them out. Over the next year, the group tracked rebel militias across the planet, hunting them down one by one. Their relentless attack was so successful, that they soon were dubbed "Chasers".

A decade later when the Clone Wars broke out, Melida/Daan was seized early on by the Separatist army for its industrial complexes and for a year, the Chasers laid low, waiting and keeping key government officials alive. Then, after a raid on a Sep weapon depot, the Chasers secretly distributed weapons to the various volunteer pro-Republic militias, leading them in an insurrection against the Separatists. Their attack was enormously successful, and after a week of fighting, the whole planet was firmly under the rightful government's control. After that, the various militias were made a permanent part of the military and were placed under the control of the ten person congress to balance out the president's control over the Chasers. Afterwards, Melida/Daan played an important part as a base from which the Republic fleet attacked the Separatists during the Outer Rim sieges.

In the back of his head, Semreh wondered whether, after so much war, the Melida and Daan would be willing to join their cause. There world was probably devastated by the recent conflict with the Seperatists and who knew whether they just welcomed the security the Empire was promising to give. Still, the records said that Master Obi-Wan had helped end their civil war, and he and the current president, Nield, had been close friends. Perhaps they could convince him to help out a few of his old friend's comrades.

Sitting around the fire, Semreh was surprised to see that the old man was surprisingly agile, able to carry wood and supplies just as well as Semreh. He had a small smile on his face, as if he was laughing at a joke that nobody else could here. Semreh ignored it and went about setting up his small bundle of leaves he planned to sleep on.

"Sooo," he began slowly, "Have you thought about our agreement. You know, for you to train me?" The man looked up at him as he dropped more wood into the fire.

"Yes, and I will, on the condition that you take me to this rebellion as quickly as possible. I'd like to judge whether or not I'm on the winning side."

"And if we're the losers?" Semreh questioned harshly. The man shrugged and stood up, brushing his hands off on his tattered robes.

"No rewards for dead hero's son. Now's the time for the Jedi to disappear, rather than make a stand." Semreh opened his mouth to argue, but stopped when Jolon raised his hand. "However, I have no problem with indirectly helping you. For instance, training you in techniques that will let you succeed against the Empire no matter what the odds are."

"Good techniques for Corellians, huh." Jolon smiled slightly.

"Indeed." He grumbled. "The first thing you need to know is that, each Jedi's connection to the Force is different, and thus manifests itself in different ways. Some have greater strength, speed, and endurance. These are more physical arts practiced by the combat oriented Jedi Guardians. These are common among most Jedi. Then, the Force sometimes grants Jedi skills in other arts, like stealth or persuading and negotiating skills. Some Jedi have even been said to be able to control their bodies on a molecular level, allowing them to heal incredible injuries and even, according to legend, pass through solid objects. Other Force abilities, take a darker tone. The Sith were known to unleash storms of lightning and choke their enemies, using the Force to attack them from the inside, while even the Jedi would occasionally unleash their powers, expelling enemies with waves of the Force. Even the weakest Jedi is able to push a single object away, but to unleash a Force wave, a Jedi needs to be particularly powerful. These often become councilors, like master Yoda." Jolon stood and walked towards a nearby tree, gently placing his hand on its trunk. He rubbed it slowly.

"Finally, some Jedi, a very few, have their powers manifested in a different way." Jolon turned, placing his hand on his chest. "I am one of those Jedi. Tell me Semreh; Do I feel strong in the Force?" Semreh reached out, feeling the power within Jolon.

"Not particularly." He confessed. "You feel like many of the Jedi within the temple. Why?"

"Because," he said turning to the tree once again, placing his palm on the tree bark. "I'm not." There was a surge, the tiniest surge, probably one of the smallest Semreh had ever felt, and the tree exploded in all directions as if a bomb had gone off inside it. Bark and woodchips flew in every direction, flying towards Semreh. He leapt backward and crossed his arms over his eyes, trying to protect them. He opened his eyes again. Jolon stood there, unharmed by the flying splinters. The tree in front of him was shattered, still standing, but filled with gaping holes where the Force had broken through its trunk.

"You see," Jolon continued as though nothing had happened. "The few Jedi born with this inclination to the Force, are not abnormally strong. In fact, one might consider most of them to be weaker to the Guardians, the Sentinels, or the Councilors."

"Then how could you do that?" Semreh interrupted, pointing at the destroyed tree.

"Think of the Force as a river of energy." Jolon explained, "The Guardians and Councilors draw from this river, diverting its flow to them so they may use it. I on the other hand, can stand in front of it, channeling it. Letting it flow through me is as natural as breathing. This allows me to use the Force easier than most, as I don't have to even reach out to touch it." Jolon turned and walked towards Semreh, that strange little smile crawling across his face again. Reached out and placed his hand on Semrehs chest, fingers circling his sternum. "By allowing the Force to flow through my body, it travels down my arm, and into you, like a conductor. Like the tree, that energy would build up, until it had to go somewhere, in this case through the skin or trunk of a tree. As you can see, the effects were… violent." Semreh brushed Jolon's hand away quickly. Why the man wanted to demonstrate on his student was beyond him.

"I'm afraid I may have missed something." Semreh said a little irritated. "The Jedi Masters have always told us to let the Force flow through us. How is this any different?"

"The Jedi Masters, like Yoda, had to train for years before the Force flowed through them freely." Jolon explained, "From birth, I could do things they took years to learn. And so can you, with training." Jolon reached out again, pressing his finger around Semreh's sternum again. The Force flowed, like a river undaming, and its energy blossomed in Semreh's chest, burning like fire. He gasped and pressed his hand on his chest, clenching the area flooded with pain.

"What did you do!?" He said through gritted teeth.

"Only what was necessary." Jolon answered. "As with me, the Council put limits on your power when you were younger and trained you to control it. It was necessary, to ensure that you did not unleash the Force and unwittingly cause harm to those around you. Now though, now that you have a teacher, I think it's safe to release said power." Inside, the Force energy continued to burn, making Semreh gasp in pain. He felt it chewing into him, as though a piece of him was disintegrating. Thinking back, Semreh remembered his early classes, how he'd been pulled away by the teachers and given extra training under Master Nostwa, who later took him as her apprentice. It all made sense. Those lessons were designed to help him control this power that was flooding into him. They'd limited him, for fear of what such raw power could do if left uncontrolled in the hands of a child. Even with his special training, his power in the Force was always greater than his fellow younglings. He'd been the first to levitate objects, the first to be able to use the Force at all. Even then, his innate ability with the Force had shown. Now, after years of lying dormant, Semreh could feel the power tearing through him; and it hurt.

"Ahh," He gasped again, "What's happening? The Force doesn't feel like this."

"After being held back by your training for so long," Jolon explained sitting on a stump, watching Semreh thoughtfully, "The flooding of power will be too much for your body to handle. In another three or five seconds you should-." The ground rushed up to meet Semreh, and there was only darkness.

* * *

Semreh came too an hour later judging by the way the sun was setting. His head was throbbing, probably from the fall he'd taken. Groaning, He hauled himself to his feet, trying to gently shake himself back into wakefulness. Jolon was sitting on a log by the fire, hunched forward and poking embers with a stick.

"You're awake." He said as the stick finally caught fire on one end. "Good, I was a little worried that the process of opening yourself up to that much of the Force would kill you." Semreh stood, and joined Jolon on the log.

"I feel different." Semreh began slowly, "Powerful, but at the same time, more cautious." Jolon nodded and pointed at the small flame consuming the end of the stick.

"Who do you believe wins here; the flame or the stick?" Semreh thought for a moment, sensing the trick hidden within Jolon's question. The flame was traveling across the wood now, leaving the sticks husk in its wake.

"Well," he began slowly, "The flame is the obvious answer. It chars the stick, burning away its outer covering and blackening its core." The flame was reaching the end now and nearly the whole stick was blackened now.

"Yes," Jolon said, "But in the long run, who wins? Once the fire has traveled the length of the stick, it has nothing left to burn, nothing with which to feed its hunger and, however slowly, it dies. He fire is gone forever. At least the remains of the stick, however charred, remain." As he spoke, the flame reached the end of the stick, flickered, and died.

"In the end," Jolon whispered to himself, "Fire is only as powerful as what it consumes."

"I'm guessing this is a metaphor for the Sith and the Jedi." Semreh asked pulling out his lightsaber, and tossing it in his hand. He always loved watching how the light reflected off its hilt, even a dark light like the campfire.

"More or less." Jolon answered. "The point though is this; does fighting the Empire help hasten its downfall, or just give it more things to burn." He stood and walked towards their makeshift tent, clearly intent on sleep. Semreh sat there for several minutes, before collapsing from lack of sleep.

* * *

Jolon was already up when Semreh began to jerk out of his sleep. He was off, looking intently at the branch of a nearby tree. In his hands was a small notepad with which he was taking notes on a group of tiny beetles who scurried about the limbs.

"The Molti Hanno beetle." Jolon said as Semreh approached from behind. "Fascinating. Generally, they have brown wings to match the color of the bark on trees, but these ones seemed to have adapted and now have blue. Curious…" Semreh waited behind him for a while, and when it became clear the old man had no intent on leaving his specimens, he began his morning training ritual. A quick meditation, followed by a series of flowing movements of the Niman style. In his exercises, Semreh could ignore the pain that continued to flower in short bursts within his chest. However, the pain was greatly lessoned now, and Semreh felt the Force flowing through him like never before. In fact, at the end of his training session, he didn't feel tired at all. Before, he would have been gasping for breath by now, but the Force enveloped him and shielded him from any pain or exhaustion he might have felt.

"This is insane." He thought looking at his clenched fist. "I can't believe how powerful the Force feels. Normally, I have excellent control over the Force, but now, I feel like I could destroy mountains."

"Trust me," Jolon said, "The Force isn't that strong with you." Semreh whirled. Jolon had evidently abandoned his study and come to watch Semreh's exercises.

"How'd you know what I was thinking?" Semreh said. Telepathy was a basic skill of the jedi, but so was defending your mind from it, and Semreh had felt none of his mental barriers being breached or even disturbed.

"I didn't, but I remember when I felt the Force flow through me like that." Jolon said sitting on a small stump to watch him. "Trust me; this isn't the Force being unleashed. Instead, you are able to manipulate it better than most. Mountains and space ships are well beyond your reach."

"Why bother with those physical exercises?" Jolon continued disdainfully as Semreh finished a particularly complicated Djem So/Ataru hybrid maneuver. "With this new power, things like lightsaber combat should be a thing of the past for you."

"Using the Force is exhausting." Semreh said swinging his lightsaber up so it fell into the basic Niman stance. "You should always have a backup." He brought the saber down, slashing in a style reminiscent of the lightsaber combat style, Makashi. Niman was, after all, a combination of that, and the other five standard forms, Ataru, Djem So, Sorsesu, and Shii-Cho. When Semreh had been younger, he'd decided to focus on the Niman form due to its balance and his desire to someday master the other forms. He thought he'd have time to meditate and train, slowly developing his skill in Niman until he became a master of all six. Then the Clone Wars began. Geonosis, the opening salvo of the war, proved Nimans weakness. Every Jedi who practiced Niman died in the red sands of the arena, and try as Semreh could, the war was certainly hadn't been the time to change his style. Maybe now was.

"Besides, you haven't exactly taught me any of the techniques you promised." Semreh said prodding, "Until then, I'll have to use my lightsaber."

"Well, we can't have any student of mine using such primitive tactics." Jolon said frowning jokingly. He walked over to the packs they'd managed to salvage from the starfighter and lifted one up with the Force and gently set it onto his back. "We'll have to learn on the run though, if we're going to make it to Zehava before nightfall."

"What makes you think we're even close enough to make it by then?" Semreh asked looking around them. The place was largely barren, with small groves of trees and rocky outcroppings interrupting the endless grassy plain. As far as Semreh could see, there were no landmarks to guide them.

"While we were…landing I guess is the word, I saw a large city twenty clicks to the northeast of us. We should be able to get there quickly if we hurry." Jolon started walking briskly away. Semreh squinted, but somehow he still couldn't see the supposed capital city.

"If you say so Master." Semreh said instinctively. Jolon bent over and picked up one of the many pebbles scattered across the small trail.

"Here," he said handing Semreh the small stone. "Rotate it as quickly as you can around your hand. It will help you practice your control." Semreh obeyed forcing it carefully around his hand.

"Like this?" He asked.

"Yes," the old man said, "but faster, and keep it going until you feel too exhausted to walk anymore. Also, hold the stone as close to your hand as possible without it touching." Easier said than done. It was one thing to grab a crate or send a blind Force push out with an outstretched hand, but keeping the small stone moving in such a tight little circle was devastatingly exhausting.

"What exactly will this do?" Semreh said, focusing as much of his attention as he could on the keeping the little stone moving.

"It will practice your precise control over the Force." Jolon answered. "If you are to learn the techniques I plan to teach you, you must have absolutely perfect mastery over this skill. Otherwise, you will die." Semreh nodded and returned to his training, careful to keep the stone rotating as tight as he could around his hand without letting it touch. So far, he could only keep it within an inch of his hand. Otherwise, the stone would only have to wiggle slightly in order to touch his hand. And the faster he tried to move it, the more it wiggled and jostled.

"At this rate, it'll take forever before I can do this perfectly." He thought resignedly. "I wonder if-." His thoughts were interrupted as Jolon stopped suddenly, making Semreh run into him. He backed up, rubbing his nose in irritation.

"Oh look." He said pointing up at the sky. His face was calm, almost as pleasant, as if he was pointing at budding spring flowers. "Star Destroyers."

**_Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**

**_P.S. Certain parts of this chapter sound like the Force unleashed, but I'm trying really hard to seperate Semreh's powers from the unleashed Force powers. His are supposed to be more like creative manipulation than sheer brute force. I kinda wanted a strong Force user to compliment Scout's lack of Force power, and since Whie is dead, I needed a new one._**


	28. Chapter 28 Behind Enemy Lines

**_First of all, I want to thank, I think it was Torli, for suggesting the reaction of the Naboo pilots to the assault ship. I didn't think about that. Thanks. _**

**_Also, I wanted to explain both the change in my pen name and the story's name. First of all, I've always hated this story's name. I had an idea that the title would have fit, but then I had to change th plot slightly. Besides, this one sounds BA._**

**_As for my change of name, I had a teacher this year who couldn't read my notoriously messy hand writing. The first day, she miss read my name as Mike Canary and my various friend agreed that, should I ever write a book, that should be my pen name. Anyways, hope you enjoy._**

The _Arrow_ dropped out of hyperspace, followed closely by Gavin and his twelve Naboo Starfighters. Unfortunately, Scout had neglected to mention they would see a massive Imperial assault ship when they exited hyperspace, a fact that caused some panic for the Naboo pilots.

"Uh, boss." One of them said nervously into his comlink, "There's a big ship over there, and it has a lot of guns on it."

"Evasive action!" Gavin yelled into his comlinks. "_Arrow_, set coordinates for hyperspace; we'll cover you!"

"Easy Naboo boy." Sonya said with a chuckle. "That's our rebellion." The comms fell silent for a minute as the words sunk in for the Naboo pilots. Several of them began drifting through space, probably staring slake jawed at the enormous cruiser.

"You guys know how to throw a rebellion." One female pilot said quietly. "I'm not exactly sure you guys even need us." Sonya shook her head even though she knew the pilot couldn't see her.

"No, we need fast independent fighters that we can use to strike at the enemy and jump to hyperspace before they can recover. You're just what we need." There was also another reason as well that Sonya kept private. People would be drawn to their rebellion eventually and not all of them would be fully trained soldiers. Because the majority of her own troops were not trained to be starfighter pilots, somebody would have to train these new recruits, and experienced pilots from the Naboo Space Corp would be a great help.

As they approached the ship, Sonya was pleased to see that any external damage caused by their hurried escape was repaired and that the ship was now well hidden amongst the asteroids, painted a rugged brown to better blend in among the floating rocks. The _Arrow_ smoothly entered the nearest hanger and dropped with a small bump onto the hanger deck. It had been two weeks since they'd last seen the inside of the ship, and things appeared to be cleaned up just as well here as they were on the outside. Crates and equipment that had been knocked over or destroyed during the battle were now cleared away and most of the blast marks that had peppered the walls were gone as well.

Scattered around the hanger, squads of guerillas trained and drilled with both their old sluthrower weapons and their newly acquired blaster rifles. Striding towards the _Arrow_, blond hair carefully buzzed and rough olive green uniform covered by a tan flak jacket, was Bren flanked by Zraii, whose antennas seemed to indicate some irritation, and Bolt, who was steely calm as ever and had his scoped slugthrower thrown over his shoulder.

"You're back." Bren said with a small sigh of relief. "I was worried the Empire may have intercepted you."

"You worry too much." Sonya said nonchalantly, "That's my job, remember." Sonya noticed how grim Bren and fell silent as Scout clambered out of the _Arrow_, bouncing energetically on her heels as she looked around at the busy hanger. Her eyes were scanning, looking for something. Sonya looked and noticed what she noticed.

"What happened?" she whispered, "Where's Semreh?" Bren reached into the chest pocket of his uniform and revealed a small holo disk.

"We recorded from the Holonet." Bren said popping it into his datapad. "Apparently, Palpatine has begun a campaign mopping up the last of the Separatist strongholds." The small image on the pad was a news program showing the new _Victory_-class Star Destroyers moving into hyperspace.

"Our little escapade got out?" Sonya said, already knowing the answer.

"Looks like it." Bren said repocketing the disk. "And the attention is causing Palpatine to move against other former Separatists before they have time to join us. This is going to restrict our allies quite a bit."

"This is all bad, but what does this have to do with Semreh? He still should have at least commed us by now."

"The problem is this," Bren began in a whisper as they both began walking towards the bridge, trying to keep Scout out of eavesdropping range. "Melida/Daan is in the Outer Rim territories, which is also where most of the Sep strongholds were manned. Even though Melida/Daan remained in the Republic, right now, Semreh is traveling through an area full of Imperial fleet traffic, so we can't send any messages to him in case we're intercepted and tracked. Likewise, he can't send us a message unless he wants to risk someone following where he was trying to contact, and eventually finding our hiding spot. He, for lack of a better phrase, is completely cut off. We have no way of knowing whether Melida/Daan will support us or not."

"So what do we do?" Sonya asked, looking at Scout out of the corner of her eye.

"Don't tell her yet." Bren whispered back. "No reason to worry her unnecessarily and this whole thing will probably blow over soon."

"And if it doesn't?" Sonya said uncertainly, "What if the Imperials are looking for him?"

"They are already." Bren answered. "And if we think he's in danger, we'll send a force to try and rescue him. How's that sound?" Sonya shrugged.

"I don't know. Logically, a whole Imperial fleet wouldn't be sent to capture one Jedi. On the other hand, it seems like too much of a coincidence. Do you think we should postpone any further contact with allies?" Bren shook his head.

"No, you and Scout need too Vorzyd V and try and get the Commonality to join us. With their systems unified behind us, plus their wealth, we should be able to begin massing a fleet." Bren hesitated for a moment, then jerked his head towards Zraii. "Also, would you mind taking bug boy off my hands for a while? He keeps trying to "fix" everything on the ship."

"Doesn't that help you?" Sonya said eyeing the alien out of the corner of her eye.

"You'd thinks so, but no." Bren shook his head, rubbing his temples. "Yesterday we caught him in the main reactor messing with some wires. Evidently, he nearly blew up the ship."

"And here I thought that would be the Empire's job." Sonya said with a small smile. Bren returned it, but then leaned in closer, whispering secretively.

"Also, he's bringing something to whatever allies we can get. I know Vorzyd IV has an enormous industrial complex, and he's bringing some designs that I'd like you to bring to the attention of our allies as soon as possible." Sonya looked at him suspiciously.

"Some type of new ship?" She said questioningly. "Why not just use the ones on here?" Bren nodded and gestured at the various starfighters and shuttles scattered around the hanger.

"Oh, we'll use them, but I'd like to have a few secret weapons to use against the Empire. So, Zraii and I came up with a few things." Sonya nodded and followed Bren up towards the stairs leading to the bridge. The crew was working hard, undermanned as it was, to keep all systems running.

"We need more than one assault ship to take on the Empire." Sonya mused aloud as they walked down the hallways. "What do you plan to do about that now that the last of our Confederates are being mopped up? Even with the Commonality, we won't have enough ships to fight and win." Bren looked at her, as if he were looking at some puzzle he was trying to figure out.

"Losing hope already?" He asked jokingly.

"No sir," she said with mock professionalism, "But I've kept you alive too long to have you do something stupid and die now. And I know you'll try."

"Ouch," he said wincing. "Do you ever soften up?"

"Not till I get the forty million credits you owe me!" She said over her shoulder as she rushed forward. "Don't think I've forgotten!" Bren rubbed the back of his neck.

"Stars, I would lose a bet against the mercenary with the best memory…"

* * *

Semreh didn't mind traveling with the Jolon. Other than his seemingly endless questions, and the fact that he constantly complained about how all this walking was tiring, and the fact that every mile or so, he had to stop to observe some godforsaken animal or tree that portrayed unusual characteristics. "Observing the living Force" he called it. Semreh personally couldn't care less. All he wanted to do was get to Zehava and convince the Melida and Daan to help them, and he wasn't going to be slowed down by this old man and his datapad.

Still, Semreh knew that, more than anything, it was him who was slowing them down. At least, his training was. Every couple miles, they had to stop to rest for a while so Semreh could recover his strength. Spinning that rock around his hand while walking was proving enormously difficult, and he still had yet to manage to circle it around his hand any tighter. Soon, Semreh found himself glaring at the little pebble, unable to understand how such a tiny object could tire him so. Breathing out his anger, he levitated the stone and began again.

"We'd go faster if I didn't have to do this the whole way." Semreh said, irritated. "Couldn't we wait until we got to Zehava?"

"You want to learn how to use the Force?" Jolon said just as irritated. "Then shut up and spin the damn stone. By the Force, you padawans are always so impa-." He was cut off by the sound of a blaster shot coming from above. Semreh, reacting on instinct, tackled the old man off the road and into the foliage. Drawing his small holdout blaster, he poked his head out of the bushes, only to pull it back down again as a spray of fire roared from an outcropping of rock about fifty yards from the other side of the road.

"Move it!" he yelled to the old man, trying to urge him forward. Jolon complied, scrambling as fast as he could without showing his head to the sniper's sights. They scurried along the cover of the bushes until they came to a small rocky area.

"All right old man." Semreh said unclipping his saber from his belt. "I'll buy you some time. You make a run for it. Get as far away from here as possible. I'll meet up with you later."

"Not so fast you little prick!" The old man roared into Semreh's ear. Semreh looked at him, shocked by his language. "What makes you think you'll last two minutes out there. Now sit down, and watch your master work!" Before Semreh could stop him, the old man threw himself over the rock. For a second, the blaster fire stopped. No doubt the sniper was as surprised as Semreh. Then, he fired again. And Jolon just stood there. Stood there and watched the tiny bolts of fire racing towards him. He raised his right hand upwards, holding it out in front of him. Semreh noticed it was heavily bandaged, as though part of him had been mummified. The blaster struck him in his opened palm…and dissipated.

The sniper paused, then Semreh saw him stand up among the rocks. Of course, it was impossible to discern any of his features. He wore a long white cowl and had the hood up and shadowing his face. His sniper rifle was trained on the old man, who stood calmly, waiting with bandaged arm outstretched. The man fired again, trying to overwhelm the man with sheer numbers, but the old man's hand was there to meet everyone.

"You see padawan." Jolon said calmly as he continued to absorb blaster fire. "By having absolute control over the Force, you can learn to do things you've never imagined. For instance, being able to absorb energy like blaster fire." The rain of fire continued, and Jolon managed to block every one, absorbing them into his open palm. His arm moved like a blur, and for several moments, it looked more like he had eight rather than just one arm. Not a single bolt managed to make it through and a second later, the fire stopped. Semreh stood up, trying to take in what he'd just seen.

"Jeez old guy." He said looking at the man's bandaged arm. "How did you do that?"

"Keep spinning the damn rock, and I'll show you." Jolon said, looking around. "Something's wrong though. One bounty hunter wouldn't be out here all alone. Where are his-." A second later, Semreh fell forwards, head numbed by a heavy blow to the head.

"Oh," he thought as he fell. "Ambush."

* * *

Semreh awoke several hours later, jumping up, fully awake. For some reason, his skin was tingling and numb, as if a current were being run through it. He rubbed his skin, trying to move some feeling back into his legs and arms.

"Don't bother boy." Jolon was leaning up against the wall across from him, body mostly limp, head lolled to the side.

"What exactly is going on?" Semreh asked. "Why is my skin so numb?"

"The floor is charged with an electric current." Jolon said. "They use just enough charge to keep us numb and make it difficult for us to move. Rather ingenious actually." Semreh snorted and wiggled himself up higher, trying to get as much of him off the floor as possible.

"Don't bother." Jolon said calmly. "The walls are charged too. Someone really wants to keep us here." He looked around as though mildly curious about their cell. The man was always watching, curious of his surroundings. It drove Semreh insane.

"How can you just sit there?" He growled angrily, trying to struggle upwards.

"There are times, apprentice, where waiting can have positive effects." Jolon said, watching the door now. A second later, it swung open on its steel hinges and a pair of young men entered the room. Both wore identical white cowls with a bit of red trim on their sleeves. There hoods were pulled up, making it impossible to see their faces. Their boots were lead covered on the bottom, letting them walk without being paralyzed by the charge running through the floor. Behind them, a woman followed. Her clothing was radically different. She wore army green pants and a white shirt that revealed her stomach. Her copper brown hair was held back with a green headband and a belt of blaster ammunition was wrapped around her waist like a belt.

"Evening gentlemen." She said cordially as she walked in the room. "I suppose, being a covert operation, we don't have to do this, but I should tell you; you are being charged with violating the blockade of Melida/Daan imposed on this planet by the Empire." She folded her hands behind her back, standing at attention.

"I'm afraid you have the wrong people." Semreh said cordially. "We just-." He was interrupted by Jolon.

"Yes," he said quietly, "We attempted to penetrate your blockade." The woman looked shocked, but not as shocked as Semreh.

"You gravel maggot." He roared, "Whose side are you on?" He tried to rise and throw a kick at him, but one of the men in white cowls drew a metal stun rod and beat him in the stomach with it. Semreh fell over, groaning a little.

"We were trying to make contact with your government." Jolon continued, not even looking at Semreh. "We have a proposal for them, regarding the Star Destroyers currently orbiting your planet." Jolon looked at the woman, sizing her up. Semreh did the same. She was clearly military, probably Special Forces judging by the company she kept. She was watching them to, and a second later, she left, leaving the guards behind. Semreh looked at them, trying to see up the man's hood. He soon gave up however and turned to talk to Jolon.

"Why'd you tell her?" Semreh asked him in an irritated voice. "We could have lied!"

"She already knew anyways." Jolon said, shrugging. "Besides, this way, maybe we'll get an audience."

"And if not," He said looking at the guards in front of them. "Well, that won't be a big problem."

**_Thanks for Reading and Reviewing. I think the next couple of chapters are going to be some of the best._**


	29. Chapter 29 Needles

**_Enjoy_**

Pix was not, by any stretch of the imagination, superstitious. She preferred letting her mind deal with what the Force couldn't. So, even though the Force wasn't telling her that she was in danger, three terror attack in the past couple of days, all around the area she was living, gave her a pretty good idea of what was going on. Every day, she turned on the news, watching it intently while holding a small pad of flimsiplast. The pad had a map of the city, which she marked with red x's where the bombings took place. She was looking for patterns, trying to see where this strange attacker was striking from. After all, she may be in exile, but she was still a Jedi. If she could stop these attacks, she would without hesitation.

The attacks seemed to all happen in her sector of the city. Twice, they'd happened within fifty yards of where she'd been staying. The carnage had been terrible. Not worse than the Clone Wars, but then it had been mostly soldiers who'd died. They expected, like she did. Here, civilians would be blown apart, scattered across the street while friends and family looked on. For Pix, nothing angered her more than some scumbag who targeted civilians.

Pix noticed that a pattern was slowly forming around the terror sites, and that they all seemed to be centered on the more crowded apartment and hotel complexes, but one area in particular had never been hit. The 13th Building Center, where the majority of the cheaper and less savory motels were nestled. Pix guessed that that's where she'd find her terrorist. Now, all she was doing was waiting, watching the local holonet for news on another terror attack. As soon as she heard any type of commotion, she would rush to that sector, trying to intercept anyone she sensed being suspicious. Not the best plan she'd ever come up with, but it was the best she had at the moment.

"There," she said to herself as a warning flashed over the news. A warehouse had been destroyed, leaving dozens dead and three wounded. The carnage and high death toll had been caused by the addition of tibanna gas, a highly volatile chemical used with capital ship weapons.

Immediately, Pix grabbed her lightsaber from her belt, strapping it to the belt she had around her mini skirt. She than put on a rough brown poncho over her top, in order to conceal said lightsaber from any wandering eyes. Looking around the room, she took a deep breath, and left.

Somehow, just walking through the streets, even disguised had become something close to terrifying for her. It was even worse with her saber so close to her. Pix always felt like someone was watching her, like someone knew what she was. Still, she lowered her face, and plunged into the busy streets, which were clogged with people fleeing the sector where the explosion had occurred. Chandrilian police had already begun blocking the streets to the sector where the warehouse was off, but Pix wasn't going there. She was going to the 13th Building sector, to wait for the terrorist. Then, she'd have a few words with him about respect for human life.

* * *

Jenna's heart was racing now. The explosion had been bigger than she'd expected, blowing the entire warehouse sky high, and even heavily damaging buildings along the whole block. Jenna herself had nearly been caught in it. She'd never meant for it to be so enormous, but that was just what those mercenaries wanted.

Two days into her little campaign, Jenna had managed to detonate explosives at several buildings without killing any people. A few injuries, some serious, but she'd been careful to detonate when people traffic was at its lowest. Then, she'd received a call one night on her comlink. It'd been Gerik.

"What part of mass chaos don't you understand?" He'd said with a dangerously low voice.

"I'm doing the best I can." She'd answered quickly. "I've hit several targets already and am-."

"Do you really think we're interested in destroyed buildings?" He's interrupted angrily. "We want bodies. Lots of bodies. And if you can't make them, then we will. Out of orphans." He'd hung up, leaving her comlink crackling in the silence. She'd looked at the thing angrily, hand shaking she was gripping it so hard. That night, she'd gone into her stores of chemicals she had left over from her university days, and found a small sample of tibanna gas and combining it with the rest of the explosive she'd made. The results had been devastating and now, Jenna suddenly realized that she was a murderer. Strange how it had only just crossed her mind.

As she turned the corner going back to the motel she'd rented, she adjusted the hood of her grey sweatshirt, trying to keep her face concealed. Even then, she took carefully selected detours in order to throw off anyone who was following her. It didn't work.

"Hey you!" a voice from behind her yelled. "Stop!" Jenna turned, instinctively raising her hands in surrender.

"Can I help you officers?" She asked in a controlled voice that surprised her.

"Yeah." One of them said drawing a blaster from his belt. "You can tell us what you're doing running through the alleys during an emergency situation? You know there was a terror attack, right?"

"Yes," Jenna said nodding as innocently as possible. "I'm going there now. My grandma lives in that area." Even to her won ears, the excuse sounded terrible.

"Man," she thought, "Why doesn't security have anything better to do during an emergency?"

"Your grandma, huh." One of them said sarcastically. "Like we've never heard that before. Come on, your coming with us." His companion, however, did something strange then.

"I think we should let her go." He said a little distantly. The guard who was trying to arrest her turned, looking at his companion in disbelief.

"What did you say?"

"We should let her go." The guard repeated. "She isn't carrying anything explosive, or it would have shown up on the checkpoint scanners. And we have more important stuff to worry about right now." The guard looked at his companion for a second and then nodded, a thoughtful look on his face.

"All right, get out of here." He said to Jenna holstering his weapon. "We've got better stuff to do." They walked away, talking in low whispers amongst themselves. Jenna nervously brushed a strand of red hair out of her face, and breathed a sigh of relief. She turned now, running as quickly as she could through the streets, eyes flashing, looking for threats in the many side alleys. Finally, she came to the street her apartment was on.

She was already half way down the street before a feeling of unease began to stir in her stomach. A bad feeling. Three seconds later, she felt cold steel being pressed against the back of her neck.

"Move and you die, murderer." A feminine voice said from behind her. "Now, move across the street, and into that alleyway." Jenna obeyed, knowing that if she so much as twitched, she was dead. Carefully and nonchalantly, they walked across the street and into one of the twisting side alleyways. Once they were deep enough into the labyrinth of alleyways and buildings, a strong arm grabbed Jenna's shoulder and spun her around while pushing her away. A hissing sound sounded as Jenna looked up, and saw one of the most recognizable weapons the galaxy had ever seen.

A vibrant blue lightsaber. The energy beam wavered just inches from her nose. It was held by a dark skinned girl in a long violet poncho. Her hair was tied back intricately and her face was fierce yet, not angry. Her eyes narrowed as she reached forward and pulled Jenna's hood back, revealing her face.

"Who are you?" the Jedi asked. "And why are you making these attacks?" Jenna looked into the Jedi's eyes, weighing the chances she had of lying. They were slim.

"I did what I had too." She answered, desperately hoping the Jedi would realize what she was saying, trying to get her to understand that she wasn't doing this by her own will, that she was being forced to. If the Jedi figured out her situation, maybe she could help. A second later, her hopes were dashed as a blast of pure energy hit the young Jedi from behind. For a moment, her features were illuminated, as if the sun were focusing its light on her fierce face, then she fell over, crumpled in a heap. Gerik and his comrades stepped out from the shadows. Radlir rose up from the top of one of the houses, a sniper rifle in his hands.

"Good work." Gerik said to him from below. Turning to the twins, he muttered something about first aid, and the twins immediately set about trying to patch up the hole in the Jedi's back.

"Were you following me?" Jenna asked Gerik, still looking in disbelief at the Jedi. Gerik nodded.

"You were the bait after all." He said, turning to help the twins drag the young girl's body towards a waiting landspeeder parked by the street.

"Wait!" Jenna called after him. "What about the kids? Where are they?" Gerik and the twins looked at each other, laughing slightly.

"According to the picture," Gerik said drawing a datapad from his pocket and comparing it to the wounded Jedi. "This isn't our target. We still have to find two more, which means we need you a little while longer."

"We had a deal!" Jenna shouted angrily. For a second, Gerik looked like he seriously might change his mind, but then shook his head.

"We still have the kids." The man warned as they loaded the girl into their landspeeder. "If you want to risk their lives, then by all means, don't listen to us. If you want them back, come to the spaceport tomorrow. We'll be going on a little field trip and you're coming with us." With that, Gerik shoved the rest of the girl's body into the speeder, and jumped in as it drove away, leaving Jenna to walk back home, hating herself almost more than her enemies.

* * *

Pix awoke several hours later, bound and gagged in a chair of a windowless room. Her back was sore, but patched up skillfuly with bandages and an application of bacta. Six men, she assumed the men who ambushed her. There was a tall scared man with long curly hair that fell over his face, who was sitting near the door, fiddling with a hunting knife, a big man whose scar less face and body either meant he was the newest, or the best fighter of the group, and a pair of twins with short shock blond hair and gaunt faces. The final two, she was surprised to see, were clones, both of whom were talking quietly to each other. They turned as they realized she was awake, faces concealed by clone armor.

"She's awake." One clone said quietly. Each of the men looked up from whatever they'd been doing and gazed at her. The big man stepped forward, motioning for the twins to follow him. The man with the hunting knife looked at them for a second, and then left, walking briskly from the room, followed by the clones.

"Good evening," the man said pleasantly, "My name is Gerik. I believe that you and I can help each other, assuming we both cooperate."

"Bite me!" She said gathering a wad of spit and shooting it at his face. "I don't work with scum."

"That's a sham." He said calmly. He wiped the spit from his face with his sleeve. "All I wanted was a little information you know."

"Well I'm not talking." Pix answered defiantly. Knowing what was coming next, she sunk into a Jedi meditation designed to help Jedi prevent pain. She felt herself float away from her body, and everything, from the roughness of the wood, to the cool air she felt as her body took a deep breath, felt distant and unreal.

"I know what you're trying." Gerik said, drawing a trench knife from his belt. He placed his hands into the loop of the handle, so the blade ran from the top of his pointer finger, four inches past his pinky. "It won't work." He gestured at the twins, who advanced on her, drawing what looked like long slender pins and knives from their own belts.

"These two," Gerik continued, "Served under the Separatists for a while. They were assassins and interrogators under Dooku. Being a former Jedi, he knew all the little ways you Jedi manage to block out pain. Luckily, he also knew ways to circumnavigate these defenses, and taught it to his interrogators." One of the twins knelt next to her, feeling along her neck with his clammy fingers. Pix's sudden urge to turn and deck the slimeball was immediately overtaken by what could only be described as the most indescribable pain she'd ever felt.

She felt her concentration slip, and she fell to earth, mind back in her body and feeling the full effects of the pain. The needle in her neck was causing it somehow, and to her, it was as if the skin on her body were being pulled back by a rusty, dull knife. The other twin drew another pin, and it too was almost gently slid into place, this time into the back of her head. It didn't kill her. As far as she could tell, it had barely bled, but whatever it hit caused Pix to scream in such agony, she felt as though she were out of breath in seconds. A second later, another pin, then another, then another.

"The twins are able to do many things with these needles." Gerik said casually. "They're tipped with several types of poisons and hallucinogens, each of which can affect your nerve system in a different way. What do you want us to do next? Make it so you feel you can't get enough air? I always love the look of panic on their face when they gape, and nothing happens." Another pin, and suddenly, Pax truly felt she couldn't breathe.

"It's only a simulation." She thought desperately, but that didn't stop her rising panic as her throat began to burn.

"All this unpleasantness." Gerik said politely, as though he were just talking to a friend rather than a young girl being tortured. "It's so unnecessary. All I want is for you to tell me one thing." He knelt down in front of her, face close. Another pin and Pix felt an icy chill going through her, as though every part of her were frostbitten.

"Tell me everything you know about Semreh Kaasen." She looked up at him, and spat one more time. He stood up, still calmly looking at her with only mild interest.

"Very well." He said turning to the twins. "You have two hours. Let's see if you can break your record." Pix watched him go, before another pin struck her, causing her to scream as her skin caught fire.

**_Thanks for reading_**


	30. Chapter 30 Interrogaton

**_Wow, 30 chapters already. Seems like only yesterday I began this. Enjoy._**

Even Semreh, who had at the temple, been known for his focus and seriousness, was somewhat surprised by the discipline of their guards. Standing there, unmoving, unspeaking for almost an hour. they seemed more like statues than humans. Their uniforms only added to their strangeness. They were long hooded cowls that were pure white except for red trim around the sleeves. They both had their hoods up so all you could see was their chins at most.

"Wonder who they work for?" he thought. He and Jolon had assumed that these were the legendary Chasers, and that they worked for the Melida/Daan government. But then again, if the planet was really occupied by the Imperials, than they could have just walked right into an Imperial trap. Either way, they wouldn't be able to do anything until the woman came back. She'd made that very clear to her guards.

A second later, Semreh's thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of the steel cell door, and in stepped the soldier girl followed by a pair of men in dark black suits. She looked mildly annoyed and glared out of the corner of her eyes at the pair black suited men who followed her, but concealed it when a fourth figure entered. The man had rough brown hair that looked… not unkempt but not exactly styled. He wore a white suit and tie that hung on him very loosely, as if it he had just run several miles. His jacket was open and his clothes were wrinkled. It would have almost been comical if not for the eyes. The man's were piercing blue, like ice, and had this look like he knew everything about you already.

"Evening." He said looking from Semreh to Jolon and nodding in acknowledgement. "I am president Nield of the Melida and Daan. And you are a pair who has just penetrated the Empire's blockade on our planet. Why?" Semreh looked up, slightly surprised. The fact that the president had come to see them personally meant that they had either done something highly impressive, or that they already knew who they were. If the latter was true, maybe the president wished to negotiate after all.

"We wanted to get on planet." Semreh said cryptically. "To talk to you sir." The president nodded, looking only mildly interested.

"Very well," He raised his hands a little theatrically and smiled. "Here I am. What do you want to talk about?" Semreh opened his mouth to answer, but then looked at the guards. Nield noticed this and waved his hand at the soldier girl, who snapped her fingers and left the room, the heavily cowled soldiers following. The suited ones remained behind however, arms crossed under their serious faces.

"They stay." Nield said at Semreh's questioning glance. "Whatever you say, these men can be one hundred percent trusted. They answer only to me." Semreh nodded, and began.

"Sir, do you remember a Master Obi Wan Kenobi?" He began. Nield nodded solemnly.

"Yes, we were friends. Are you some of his…comrades?"

"Yes." Semreh answered truthfully. Nield didn't look surprised. In fact, he looked positively happy.

"I knew it!" He said joyfully. He punched the air with his fist. "I knew Obi Wan survived. If anyone could, he could. What does he need? Supplies? A place to hide out?" Semreh looked at Jolon, a worried expression on his face.

"Actually sir, I have no idea whether Master Obi Wan is. Last anyone heard, he was Utapau, with his clones." Nield's face fell. He looked away, rubbing his neck disappointedly.

"Sorry." He mumbled quietly. "I thought that if I was contacted by anyone, it would be Obi Wan. We fought together during the war, and I owe him one…" He fell silent, looking at the wall, staring into space.

"Guess I'll never pay him back now." Nield whispered quietly.

"He could still be alive." Semreh amended quickly. "We haven't heard anything from any of the Jedi. That's why we need your help."

"You want to find Jedi?" Nield asked, still looking at the wall. Semreh flashed him his most convincing grin.

"Not just find Jedi, but gather them and rally them around a banner. Around a rebellion." Nield looked up, surprised.

"Just how old are you?" He asked suspiciously, stroking his chin.

"Older then you were when you joined the Young." Semreh countered. Nield smiled, and chuckled slightly. He groaned a little and threw his head back.

"You know your history." He complimented. "I suppose you also remember how the war ended."

"No, Mr. President." Semreh answered truthfully. "I missed that chapter, but I do know that you owe the Jedi for what we did, and that this is probably the last chance you'll have to pay us back." Nield turned and nodded at one of his suited bodyguards. The man, a wiry man with shock red hair spiked back, grinned a little cockily and left the room with his companion, a blond man with a bulky upper torso and arms like tree trunks, shutting the door behind him.

A second later, the current running through the walls and floor shut off, letting Semreh's numb arms and legs slowly regain feeling. He rubbed them, trying to force some feeling back into his arms, but to no avail.

"Don't worry; your feeling will come back in an hour or two. Most of your nervous system is just all over the place, so it will take a bit." Nield sat down very casually and leaned against the wall, one knee up by near his chest, his head tilted back, eyes closed.

"You're asking a lot Jedi, and I don't even know your name."

"Well then let's start there." Semreh said, shakily raising his hand with much effort. "I'm Semreh. Semreh Kaasen."

* * *

Semreh Kaasen. Over the past four hours, that name had meant so much to Pix. It's meant salvation, a brief pause for every bit of pain. All she had to do was mutter some answers, and it would all go away. Semreh Kaasen. For four hours, Pix's entire existence revolved around a fellow Jedi she had only known slightly during their time in the temple. Yes, they'd grown up together, but they only knew each other through their studies. She only knew what every other padawan had known about him. It was only through bad luck that she'd been the one to be picked up by these goons.

Pix shuddered as another pin was pulled from her skin. Her body was covered with them by now, from the top of her head, to the bottom of her toes, every pressure point, every vein, every nerve it seemed, was on pierced by the small thin pieces of metal. She strongly suspected she looked something like a pin cushion, with needles sprouting from her like branches and blood gently seeping from every pore on her body. The man, what was his name? It was so hard to think. Everything was blurry.

Gerik. That was it. He'd said that the needles allowed for maximum pain and minimal bleeding, making sure she wouldn't die before they were done. He'd been right, but there were so many needles, each digging into her body, that the blood flowed anyways, in small trickles down her face, arms and torso. They were pulling the needles out now, extracting them carefully. Not out of any sense of protection for her. No, she'd played her part. They just didn't want to damage any of their precious torture devices. If they were thin enough to affect nerves, they were thin enough to break at the slightest provocation.

"Now, see, that wasn't so difficult." Gerik said, playfully spinning one of his trench knives around a finger. "All you had to do was tell us what you know. Now, the pain can stop." Pix yelped as one of the twins pulled another pin out, this one located just behind her ear in a flesh part of skin. Her bald head felt cold. They'd cut off her hair in order to better find areas to inject the pins on her scalp. It had worked magnificently as far as Pix could tell. Her pain was like a combination of headaches, frost bite and electric shocks to her feet, all done at once.

But worse than her physical pain, was the sheer mind numbing, soul crushing pain in her chest. She had talked. She had told them everything, and felt relief every time she did, because every time she did, they'd withdraw another pin from her body. She'd said everything she knew about Semreh, a fellow padawn, from the style of combat he used, to the classes he took, to his nerf steak allergy. All of it. Everything she knew. They knew he'd worked in the library studying history, that he had won victories for the Republic through his tactics in the Clone Wars. Everything, minor or major, that she'd known, she had said. And she'd felt good doing it.

"I- I always thought I was stronger, you know." Pix said quietly, looking down at her feet. "Never thought I'd be a traitor, but it's not easy."

"Nobody ever does." Gerik said seriously. "Even mercenaries don't plan on betrayal, despite how profitable it is. But, sometimes it happens."

"Yeah," she said with a small chuckle that lacked any mirth whatsoever. "I fought at Thrusta, you know. Do you know about that campaign?" Gerik nodded. It had been a diplomatic nightmare for the Republic. Thrusta, led by its wise leader Alaric, who was a close friend of Yoda, had seceded from the Republic.

Desperate to maintain the trade rout running through its system, the Republic had landed a task force there, which was promptly ambushed by Thrusta's local forces. The Republic had even sent Yoda there to try and convince Alaric to have his troops lay down their arms, but to no avail. In the end, the Republic had been forced to launch an assault on the capital city, destroying much of it and killing Alaric in the process. The rest of the planets in the system, having heard this, rallied around Thrusta and joined forces with the Confederacy, leading to a long bloody stalemate to retake the system.

"I was a padawan when we went in with the advance forces." Pix continued distantly. "We landed fine, but in less than ten standard hours, the Thrusta forces attacked us, using suicidal attacks and tactics. My master died, saving my life, leaving me and a fellow padawan alone. The enemy was so willing to die for their cause…Makes me look like a coward, huh." Pix looked away, shutting her eyes tight as the twins removed yet another pin. When it was out, she continued, her voice hoarse.

"After that, Master Yoda came, to negotiate with the people of Thrusta, the Selphi. While he and the padawan, Cal, left to negotiate, I stayed behind with the task force. While they were gone, we noticed the Selphi were building up for a major attack. My clone commander advised that we hit them before they hit us, but I refused, having been ordered by master Yoda to avoid engaging the Selphi. But the day dragged on, and no word came from Master Yoda."

"Then," she said a little darkly. "Senator Navi of Thrusta came to our camp. He claimed his loyalty was to the Republic and that Master Yoda and Cal had been executed. He showed us a secret pass where an even larger Selphi force was waiting to ambush us." Pix looked up now, steadying herself as best she could.

"He said we should attack, and I trusted him. I went in on gunship, attacking the city from above and below with tanks, and in the end, destroying any hope we had for victory. All because of one little traitor." She hung her head again, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I wonder, if I've done the same thing here. I wonder if my information will kill my comrades." She said through quiet sobs. "I wonder if I'm the same as that Senator, saving my own skin at the expense of others." Gerik watched her silently, letting her silently weep and get it all out.

"I know what's coming next." The girls said, forcing down her tears. She looked up at him again, eyes welled with tears, but they weren't falling anymore. She looked so familiar, like a distant memory Gerik couldn't quite grasp. "I'm a padawan of the Jedi Order, a former commander in the Grand Army of the Republic, and a soldier at the age of fifteen. I have no delusions about what happens next." Her eyes were clear now, tears gone, looking at him dully, almost sleepily. To Gerik, she looked like an old man, just tired and broken. Then, he found it. Who she reminded him of.

"You remind me of my daughter." Gerik said, raising his blaster and pressing it to her forehead. "War for soldiers only ends one way. I'm sorry." He said it looking right into her eyes, and willed her to believe him. He didn't care for Jedi, but no reason to prolong her suffering.

"I'm not." She said, closing her eyes gently.


	31. Chapter 31 Luck, Ladies, and Lies

**_So, finally taking off again. Probably get another in before the end of the weekend. Hope ya'll keep reading._**

**_Enjoy._**

Semreh rubbed feeling back into his arms, stretching as he walked down the hallway of the military base. Besides him, Jolon groaned, complaining under his breath of a terrible headache while in front of him, Nield was in deep discussion with the red haired girl. She nodded towards the end of their conversation and turned, gesturing for them to follow her. Nield waved goodbye, saying he had business to attend to, and left them, walking down a different side hallway followed by his two bodyguards.

"This way." The girl said in a crisp military voice. She turned, leading them down the opposite hallway. She didn't make small talk and judging by the way various cowled and armored soldiers moved out of the way when she walked by, she was of high rank. Odd for someone who looked barely older than Semreh.

"So," He began hoping to break the silence. "Where are we?"

"About twenty miles outside of Zehava." She answered briskly. "This is a Chaser base from which all military operations, both covert and overt, are commanded."

"I see." Semreh said thoughtfully. "Then, where are we going?"

"To your quarters." She said as they turned another corner. The base and its white wash walls seemed to be made of nothing but corners. "President Nield has told me to treat you as high ranking ambassadors and as refugees from the Empire. I'm also to keep you updated on intelligence and begin mobilization operations."

"Mobilization." Semreh said excitedly. "Does that mean the Melida and Daan have agreed to help us?" His face fell when she shook her head.

"No, it means President Nield is willing to help you, and he only has direct control over the Chasers. In order to mobilize the national army and call out the militias, he will need permission from the council, and they will take much longer to convince, if they even agree."

"How long?" Semreh asked as she stopped abruptly, entering a datacard into the pad of a door. She hesitated as the door swung open.

"As long as the Imperial fleet keeps moving ships through this area…Probably never." She turned, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry though. President Nield has a plan. He always has a plan. And, he's the luckiest man I know." Semreh snorted, entering the room alongside Jolon.

"What president needs luck?" He said irritated. Something flashed across the girls face, like a faint remembrance of a far off memory. She shook her head, and the look was gone.

"Everybody needs luck." She said watching him closely. Semreh laughed and gestured at the old man behind him, who had fallen asleep the moment he'd hit the couch.

"Not us." He said a little cockily. "We're Jedi." She smiled at him and handed him a pair of data cards.

"I know. Now, if you need anything, I'll be in the central command center. And by if you need anything, I mean if we're under attack and I don't already know it. Anything short of that, I just won't care about." Semreh nodded, pocketing the datacard. The girl turned and strode down the hallway and Semreh almost closed the door when he remembered something and flung it back open.

"Say!" He yelled after her. She turned a little, looking at him. "What's your name?" She looked at him, surprised. Looking down at her feet for a moment, she looked up, shouting back. "Samantha, but everyone calls me Sami" before turning and continuing down the hallway and out of sight.

Semreh ducked back into the room, taking in the sight. It was small, but it had a bathroom and a pair of cots for him and Jolon to sleep comfortably on.

"_Not to different from my room back in the temple."_ He mused silently to himself. Throwing off his flight suit and jacket, he reclined on the floor, leaning his back against the wall.

"Jolon!" He shouted, jerking the man awake with his voice. The old man jerked awake, clutching his forehead.

"What!?" He shouted back, but then fell back again, groaning. "By the Force, my head hurts."

"Tomorrow, we're going to train again. All right?" Jolon sighed and drew a small pebble from his pocket.

"Here I thought the master ordered the student." He said sarcastically, tossing the rock to Semreh, who caught it with the Force and began spinning the tiny stone. "You master that, and then I'll start teaching you some more techniques."

* * *

The _Arrow_ slipped out of hyperspace, under the skilled and deft control of Gavin Sykes.

"I love this little ship!" He said, curving the ship around to the nearby planet, Vorzyd V. The planet was bright with lights from the many cities on the Gambler's World. "Shame we have to go to this backwoods world though. Why not start with planets like Corellia?

"Vorzyd V is the head of an alliance called the Commonality." Sonya explained. "And its enormous funds are threatened by the Empire's taxes and therefore could become a funder for our rebellion, along with bringing the rest of the Commonality into our alliance." Sykes nodded, allowing the ship to swing towards the planet's equator. Its capital, Efavan, was one of the major gambling centers and the center of government for Prime Minister Kalasaad Woztu.

Its planetary space defense forces, consisting of three enormous _Invincible_-class Dreadnaught heavy cruisers (whose armament consisted of six concussion missile tubes, twelve turbolasers cannons, thirty quad laser cannons, and six tractor beam projectors that were all located at different locations along it's cylindrical hull) and several squadrons of Headhunter starfighters that swarmed and patrolled around them, was deployed before the planet, in three groups. However, none of these moved towards the lone freighter. They were too busy dealing with swarms of commercial ships descending on the gambler's paradise.

"How do we get in?" Scout asked from Sonya's side. Sonya turned, looking at the girl. She'd been oddly quiet during the trip. Not that Sonya minded the change. Normally she was so...bouncy.

"We just slip into the line." She said, pointing at one of the many lines of traffic winding towards the military checkpoints. The Arrow surged forward, slipping in line behind a Corellian freighter with a picture of a scantily Zabrak lady painted on top of its engines.

"Classy." Scout said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

* * *

"And why have you come to Vorzyd V." A bored voice murmured over the _Arrow's_ comlink. Sonya sighed. She hated these bureaucratic procedures. Why did every planet manage complicate simple procedures, like landing?

"To gamble of course!" Gavin said enthusiastically. He played the role of a money mad vacationer well. "I hear you have the best casinos around. Tell me, is the-"

"Yeah yeah." The man said annoyed. "Please travel along these coordinates to landing pad sixty four B." Gavin assured him he would, and swung the freighter around, careful to not dent its boomerang shaped wings against the various luxury cruisers and couriers. They'd been careful to make the arrow less threatening before leaving, removing the ball turret that trailed it and covering the various missile tubes with detachable panels.

Scout had suggested it, saying that there was no way she was flying in a ship that couldn't defend itself, but that the ship had to look innocent enough to not warrant a search. While they couldn't hide a whole ball turret, they could cover the up the openings to the missile tubes. Scout and Zraii had rigged together a series of small extremely low power explosive devices that were all activated by a switch in the cockpit. As soon as they needed to, they could activate the switch, blowing the panels off and revealing their missile tubes. It was crude, but it kept them from having to go through customs agents.

The reason the custom agents were such a big deal was not only because of the obscene amount of weaponry packed into its relatively small hull, but also because of the ten elite guerillas under Bolt who were packed into the cargo hold, alongside everything from thermal detonators to knives.

"There's the landing pad." Scout murmured as they approached the steel platform. It looked rickety and covered in rust, but as they landed, the Arrow stood firm. Quickly, they all piled out except for Bolt and the mercenaries, who agreed to stay behind and watch the ship. After all, what else were they going to do? Meanwhile, Sonya, Scout, Zraii, and Gavin quickly took to the street.

* * *

It wasn't long before Scout realized what a mistake that was. From corner to corner, people crammed into the roads. Everywhere she looked, Scout saw every race, every personality, and every drink imaginable.

"Seriously," she thought as they passed a pair of Devaroians playing a drinking game (Evidently, it involved running across the street and taking a drink every time they managed to not get hit by speeding traffic. They were getting progressively worse). "How busy is this place?"

Not only that, but Sonya and Gavin were drawing attention. Scout found this decidedly odd, considering that most of the people around her were dressed in the most flamboyant and outrageous outfits. Still, eyes followed the pair of them, Sonya with her straight backed march of a walk and wearing her flak jacket uniform, and Gavin in his flowing Nabooian flight suit. Evidently, if you weren't drunk or uproariously happy, you were a sight to see around here.

"Loosen up guys." She tried to whisper to them. "Come on, at least try to blend in." Sonya looked at Scout curiously, then curved her lips upward, forcing a smile onto her face.

"Well, maybe you should just keep glaring." Scout suggested nervously. She turned to Gavin, who grinned and winked at her.

"Well, I have no problem with loosening up." He said laughing. Eyeing a crowd of girls that were passing by, he reached out, grabbing a young blond haired woman by the arm, and pulled her into his arms and made out with her. Scout and Sonya stared, less surprised by his actions and more surprised by the fact that she seemed to be enjoying it. As they parted, the young girl waved at the captain, who came back with an enormous grin. Sonya promptly punched him in the nose.

"Hey what was-" He was interrupted again when Scout, who had quickly snuck up behind him, grabbed his wrist, holding it behind his back in an impressive arm bar. "You said act casual!" He said painfully as Scout applied more pressure to her hold.

"No." Sonya said, walking down the street with Scout and her captive following. "We said act natural. That was anything but."

"Yeah," Scout said, letting Gavin go and walking quickly ahead of him. "If you're going to do that, at least wait until you're not in the presence of ladies." Gavin, stumbled, rolling his shoulder to get dull it's throbbing pain. He checked his nose, making sure nothing was broken, and found it was slightly curved to the left. He carefully realigned it and watched the back of his two female companions, glowering.

"Some ladies." He grumbled. "Who beats up a fella for something like that?" Besides him, he heard Zraii chuckle, a strange sound coming from the Verpine race's throats.

"On my planet," He said in his almost buzzing voice, "We have a saying. Nest with the wrong female, and your-" The saying fell into a series of clicks and buzzing as the Verpine fell into his own native tongue.

"What?" Gavin said as the pair hurried to follow their companions. The Verpine turned, looking at him with his enormous black eyes.

"I believe the Basic translation is, 'Get your ass handed to you'."

"Ohh," Gavin said, nodding in understanding. "Well believe me buddy, we have that saying too."

* * *

The wind was blowing gently, rustling the grass. But to Nield's ears, it sounded like screaming, as though his planet were in agonizing pain. He felt his ears grow hot, and his hands clenched the grass beneath him. It was dry, parched in this empty wasteland outside the city.

Nield had tried to keep his promises. There were so many. He'd promised the Young, his old comrades, a world they could all live in, where war would be a thing of the past, where they wouldn't have to fight anymore. He'd failed them, letting the Young forces eventually dissolve into civil war before Obi-Wan had helped stop him.

In his campaign for president, he'd promised to keep the peace. To protect the people. To keep their planet safe. The Clone Wars had shattered any remaining perception of peace. The battle droids had landed, killing people, burning homes and destroying lives. The rising Empire had been just as oppressive, installing a blockade that made prices of the most important necessities impossible to match.

Finally, Nield had made a promise to an old friend. He still remembered her; coppery red hair cut short, her joyful mischievous face smiling through the darkness of the sewers. They'd been friends for so long, leaders of the Young together, and later, the people who helped restore peace to the planet.

He'd made promises to her too. He'd tried to keep them.

"_Don't build any monuments for me."_ She'd said. And he hadn't. Nield had attended her funeral in this barren wasteland outside Zehava, before her simple grey tombstone. People left flowers there, making it look like an oasis among the battle scarred dirt. Nield didn't. He just sat and stared at the name for a while, eyes blank and dry.

Still, as he sat looking at the name, he wondered what she would have done. Would she have fought back? Would she have allied with the Republic? Would she have sheltered the Jedi, knowing what that would bring? When you have to choose between peace and freedom, which does one pick?

"Cerasi," He whispered to himself hoarsely. His hands dug deeper into the earth, crushing grains of sand and brittle weeds between his fingers. "I-I am so sorry." His voice broke and a few silvery tears dropped from his face, splashing on the parched earth.

"I don't know whether what I'm doing is right," He said to the tombstone, "But-But I'm the last of our little group. You're gone. Obi Wan is probably dead on some Force forsaken planet. What do you want me to do?" He wiped tears from his eyes as he heard footsteps approaching from behind.

"Sir," One of his Chaser bodyguards said, tightening his tie nervously, "We need to leave. The Council will soon be in session." Nield nodded, tightened his tie and followed the man to the landspeeder waiting down the hill. The bodyguard, a tall lanky man with shock red hair named Fless, turned with him, following him to the waiting vehicle.

As Nield sat in the car, he remembered his other promise to Cerasi.

"_Don't mourn too long for me." _She'd said.

"_Sorry,"_ Nield thought as he watched the small tombstone get farther and farther away. _"I guess I lied about that too."_

**_Like I said, look for the next in a couple days. Also, check out the spin off. We're getting kinda close to where the two converge (Or we could be really far away. All depends on how both the series go)._**

**_Thanks for Reading and Reviewing._**


	32. Chapter 32 Casino Royale

**_I'm not going to lie. I hated writing this chapter. Still, I've got it out of the way now, so the rest should all be easy sailing now. Hope you enjoy it. P.S, I didn't pick the name of the Casino. According to wookipedia, it's canon. That's why I picked it. Sorry the name seems generic._**

Vorzyd V was, like all casino worlds, as gaudy as it was rich. By far, the gaudiest and richest of the casinos was the Casino Royale. Famous throughout the galaxy, Casino Royale was the largest and most famous. It was probably also the best protected. Sensors and guards at each of the entrances were used to detect cybernetic implants that might assist players in their gambling, and droids were strictly forbidden. In addition to the automated security, the owners had hired an armies worth of Kilmaulsi, an avian species that had long ago lost its wings and ability to fly. They were often considered as violent as angry Wookies when angered.

When the casino guards approached Scout and her companions, feathers ruffled and beaks snapping angrily, Scout had a feeling something were wrong. Before they could get any closer, she pushed Sonya and Gavin into the thick crowd and motioned for Zraii to follow. Sonya and Gavin soon caught on and began running through the crowds, using them as cover from the avian guard's excellent eyesight.

Normally, it wouldn't be a big deal. They'd just run away in the other direction. Unfortunately for them, the Casino was also the current residence of the prime minister of Vorzyd V, Kalasaad Wotzu, and he was probably their best chance for having a well funded and supplied rebellion. So, like it or not, they had to get onto the casino floor where Kalasaad Wotzu would be mingling with important guests.

As they ran, Scout noticed a stream of workers moving about in the back alleys, loading supplies into the building. She tapped Sonya on the shoulder, pointing at the workers. She nodded and signaled for Zraii and Gavin to follow her.

"Let's grab sneak in round back." She whispered to them. "If we can get onto the main floor, nobody should notice us."

"Don't you think we should take a little more time to come up with a plan?" Sonya whispered sharply, looking at the bustling workers and droids. Not to mention the dozens of cameras combing the alleyway.

"Oh," Gavin said waving his hand nonchalantly, "What's life without a little out of your mind danger?" He followed Scout, who had leapt from their hiding place, cloak billowing around her as she did. Zraii was quickly on his heels and Sonya brought up the rear, grumbling about how illogical they all were.

Before long, they'd entered the kitchens. The walls were white washed and bear except for pots and pans that dotted it's surface. Moving along quietly, with all the stealth that being refugees and soldiers gave them, they snuck along the wall, careful to keep low beneath the various stoves and ovens. Then, Scout tripped.

There was moderately loud clanging noise as a dozen pots and pans hanging on the wall in front of them fell to the floor, and Scout, who was sitting, grimacing amongst the metal gongs as people began to turn and stare, waved and said weakly, "Could we please talk to the Prime Minister?"

Sonya groaned as alarms sounded and a dozen of the Casino guards rushed into the kitchen, drawing blasters and stun sticks. That kid was going to get her killed one of these days. Why was Bren so bent on helping them?

* * *

Sonya had always heard about the brutal casino security and how they violently protected their golden treasures. So, when the guards dragged her and Scout into a small cell-like room, all she could think about was Gavin and Zraii, who'd been carted off elsewhere. After all, Sonya felt that Scout and her weren't the ones who were in trouble. Once alone with the guards, Sonya looked around, trying to see any possible route of escape. There was none.

"Any chance of you letting us out?" Sonya said to one of the guards flanking the doors as she wiggled her wrists in their stun cuffs. They squawked angrily in some incoherent language. One of them was standing next to the door, fingering his talons with his beak. The other, had Scout in a tight grip. She didn't have stun cuffs on for some reason. Sonya suspected they'd run out and that that was why they were being carefully guarded in this room.

"I'll take that as a no." She said, leaning back against the wall. "You know Scout, I'm a little bored of this place. What do you say to a jailbreak?"

Scout, who was eyeing the guard clamping her arm tightly in his talon, looked up, smiled, and grabbed the wrist of the guard, pulling him forward and, with a mighty heave, threw the guard over her back.

Now, being descended from birds gave the Kilmaulsi many advantages that made them excellent guards. Their keen eyesight let them spot their enemies before they could spot them, and their reflexes were some of the best in the galaxy.

Unfortunately for them, despite having become a land bound species years ago, they still had the fatal flaw of all birds; the thin, hollow bones that allowed them flight. Perhaps that is why, when Scout tried to throw a guard several times her size with her wiry girlish frame, the guard in question flew across the room and hit the far wall with a series of loud cracks.

The other guard reacted quickly, aiming a series of punches and jabs at Scout. She managed to avoid the first two, but the guard brought his taloned foot up and struck her in the thigh, drawing blood. Sonya, who was still held in stun cuff, leapt up and jumped, twisting sideways and ramming both her feet solidly into his chest. The guard fell back hard, cracking it's skull on the wall. Sonya stood back up, and looked around.

Scout was stripping one of the guards of his blaster and key card. She threw the blaster to Sonya, who held it carefully. Stun cuffs or not, she could still shoot. Then, a second later, the cuffs fell to the ground, sizzling and sparking. Scout meanwhile was already cutting through the roof with her lightsaber.

"You brought that?" Sonya said rubbing her wrists. "I thought we were going to be discreet."

"I kinda ruined that back in the kitchen, didn't I?" She said as a circular sheet of metal fell from where her saber had cut through the ceiling. "Besides, we have to rescue Zraii and Gavin." She jumped up; grabbing the ledge her saber had created, and heaved herself up and into a ventilation system..

"You take care of that." Sonya said heading for the door. "I'm going to go meet the Prime Minister." Scout's head popped down, hair falling

"How you going to do that?"

"By gambling of course." Sonya said, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

The floor of the casino was as busy and gaudy as the rest as the rest of it. Scantily clad women waited on big players while those who'd lost fortunes were at the man desks, trying to negotiate and plea their money back.

Sonya made her way through the crowds, looking for the Prime Minister, but the crowds were so large, it soon became clear that she would never find him just wandering around.

"_Guess I'd better make him come to me then."_ She thought to herself, making her way to a table with a large crowd around it. Perhaps if she made enough money and made it known she was a big player, the prime minister would come to her and speak to her like he did to all the V.I.P.S. Looking over their heads, she saw a large man with an enormous, bushy grey mustache and a balding head, lounging in a chair and playing pazzak with a set of men who looked like they were on the verge of murdering him. Judging by the stack of chips in front of him, he'd nearly cleaned them out. He was regularly dressed compared to the rest of the crowd, in a simple jacket and denim trousers. Sonya squeezed through the crowd, trying to avoid anything bad tempered or particularly large. As she got closer she signaled the dealer to add her to the game and sat down.

"Hey there." The man said, stroking his enormous mustache. "You sure you want to get involved in this girl? Notice the chips." He gestured at the stacks and piles of chips in front of him and smiled.

"We'll see I guess." She said, tossing in a chip worth ten thousand credits that she'd grabbed off an unsuspecting patron. Now, Sonya had been many things. A student. A soldier. A mercenary. But one thing she'd never been was a gambler. When it came to games like pazzak, Sonya didn't gamble; she won.

Pazzak was a game played across the universe for many centuries. Each player was given deck with a set of cards while the dealer would deal from a different deck that contained cards numbered from one through ten. The dealer would deal one of these a turn to each player. It was up to the player to decide whether to hit or hold. The goal was to get exactly twenty cards without going over. The only other way they could affect the game was by playing cards in their hands.

The players deck had a variety of cards, but only drew four from his or hers deck that would become their hand for the game. These cards could be plus cards, minus cards, plus/minus cards that the player could change between plus or minus, giving them a range of options, flip cards that would turn all positive cards negative and negative cards positive, and the rare double card that could be used to double your cards.

The key was in deciding when to play your cards and when to hold onto them. The more cards you had in your hand, the more likely you'll be able to affect the game. If you play your cards to early, you could be unable to change the game later.

The casino played Bespin Standard Rules, where each game had three rounds where the winner won two out of three. The first player to win three out of five games won the pot.

Sonya looked at her hand, eyeing her cards. She had one -3, a +4, a -/+ 6, and a -/+ 4. A decent hand. She looked up, trying to read her opponents face, Nothing. He had an excellent pazzak face.

The dealer dealt out a card to her. A ten. Sonya knocked on the table, signaling she wanted another. Her opponent got a six. He too signaled for another card. After all, at this stage in the game there was zero chance of going over twenty.

Her second card was six, giving her a total of sixteen. Her opponent got a four, giving him a total of ten.

"Ahh," he said with a small smile. "Looks like you're the first to risk going over." Sonya grimaced a little. In pazzak, you wanted low cards so you could stay below ten as long as possible and conserve your own cards. That way, your opponent would go over twenty before you even needed to play them. And with a ten, he could hit again without having to worry about going over, While Sonya could only afford to hit if she got something beneath a five.

The man hit again, drawing a nine, putting him at nineteen; a difficult hand to beat. Confidently, he declined another draw. Sonya smirked at him and played her -/+ 4 card, and watched as the man's face fell.

"Well," He said grin gradually growing on his face. "Looks like I finally have some competition."

A half hour later, the two pazzak players were tied. Sonya noticed her opponent was very skilled and wasn't bluffing when he warned her against playing her. After four games, she'd won two and the mustachioed man had won two. In this game, they were tied one set to one set. The first set, Sonya had lucked out on, getting two tens in a row. The second had forced her to use three of her cards, but she'd still lost. Meanwhile, her opponent had only spent one, leaving him with three unknown variables. Personally, Sonya didn't like variables. She had one last card to play, literally.

"Well," He said, smiling from over his cards, "Don't suppose you'd like to just give up now?" Sonya tapped on the table, watching as their cards were dealt.

"Not yet," She said grinning back. She looked at the first two cards. Sonya had a nine and the man had a one. They both knocked. On the next one, Sonya got a two, the man a three.

"_Come on."_ She thought. The man's numbers were to low so far. If he didn't get something big, he could still win, despite her last card. The next time, she got a six, while the man got a five, putting her at seventeen and him at nine. Not a good situation. The next set of numbers came up and Sonya watched as she got six, putting her over. The man looked up and smiled, reaching for the pool. Just as his hand reached it, Sonya played her last card.

"The flip." She said triumphantly. "As you know, it turns all my positive cards negative, putting me back at zero. While you…" The man looked at the card that'd just come up for him. A nine. He groaned and looked at his hand.

"I stand." He said. He still had eighteen and all Sonya had now was luck. She knocked. A ten came up. She knocked again. A seven. She needed something three or lower. She looked at the man now, a hard glint in her eye. The area around them had fallen silent, a dead hush. Everyone was looking at them intently, but the two combatants didn't notice any of that. All they did was stare at each other. Sonya knock, and the dealer flipped another card. A three.

"Pure pazzak." She whispered to the man, and grabbed the pool as the surrounding crowd applauded politely. The man across from Sonya looked outraged at first, but then relaxed and laughed heartily.

"Your good." He said, patting her on the back. "Tell me, what's your na-." A second later, a commotion from across the floor drew everyone's eyes. The bird like guards were running across the room, jumping over tables and drawing pistols, all aimed at a threesome huddling behind the bar.

* * *

Scout had not exactly expected escape to be easy, but she'd certainly not expected the thirty Kilmaulsi to all converge on them at once.

"_They were waiting for us."_ She though as the bar was peppered with blaster fire. _"That's why Gavin and Zraii were unguarded. They wanted to give us an excuse to run. Now they can legally use lethal force."_ Leaving her saber unignited at her belt, Scout reached up and felt along the top of the bar until she felt cold glass under her fingers. She grabbed the bottle and pulled it down, looking at the label.

"Hey," Gavin said reaching for the bottle. "Correlian Ale. This is some good stuff." Scout pulled the bottle away from him, turned and hurled it across the room, much to Gavin's horror, and hit one of the guards full in the face. The guard fell, but another one soon took his place.

"Gavin," Scout said reaching for another. "There's a time and a place to drink."

"We're about to be shot." He said, peeking over the edge of the counter. "How is that not a good time to drink?" The fire stopped suddenly.

* * *

Sonya had a pretty good idea about what had happened. Judging by how angry the guards were, Scout and the rest had fought their way out of the back rooms. And judging by how shot up the bar counter was, they only had moments before they were completely exposed to the guards fire.

Abandoning her chips, she pushed her way through the crowd. Drawing her blaster, she fired once over her head to disperse the crowd. With scattered screams and cursing, they moved out of the way and Sonya brought her blaster up, standing in the classic shooter position, and fired. Two of the guards fell with blaster burns and another lost its weapon, now a sizzling pile of melted plastioid.

The rest now turned on her, but were unable to fire for fear of hitting the crowd. Squawking, they drew their stun batons and moved in, trying to engage her in hand to hand. They were shocked when Scout and Gavin, who had used her distraction to come out of hiding, appeared behind them. Giving hit one with a full body tackle that pinned one of the guards to the ground while Scout put another in a strong arm bar. She turned the avian guard so that he was shielding her from any blaster fire. The guards, angry as they were, still didn't fire on one of their comrades. Scout on the other hand drew her captive's blaster from his holster and fired at the other guards from under his arm. Meanwhile, Sonya had moved behind Scout and stood back to back with her, blaster raised and aimed at the advancing guards.

"You escaped." Sonya said to Scout. "What was the point if we're only going to get killed?"

"They were waiting for us." Scout said holding down the trigger of her blaster, sending the guards in front of her running for cover. "They wanted us to escape."

"Great." Sonya growled sarcastically. "That makes the situation so much better, knowing that they'd planned it." The Kilmaulsi had surrounded them now, and Gavin and Zraii were also occupied, holding off a small group from an overturned table with a pair of captured blasters.

"Stop!" A voice yelled. Sonya looked around. The floor was deserted now except for the combatants and the mustachioed gambler, who stood along leaning on a cane and stroking his mustache.

"Stand down." He told the guards sternly. One of them, Sonya suspected it was the leader, waved at the Sonya and Scout, squawking. The man shook his head. "I'm not paying you to kill, I'm paying you to listen to my orders. And I'm ordering you to take your wounded and ring the casino. Make sure none of the patrons are hurt." The Kilmaulsi captain hesitated, then nodded and signaled for his men to follow him outside. Once they were gone, the man turned back to Sonya and smiled.

"Thanks for helping us and all," Scout asked from Sonya's right, "But, who are you." The man bowed eloquently and smiled up at them.

"Why, I'm Prime Minister Kalasaad Wotzu." He said with a sardonic grin.

**_Hope you enjoyed it. Not my favorite chapter, but the next ones should be very good._**


	33. Chapter 33 Electric Judgment

**_One thing I wanted to do with this story is explain some of the Force Powers and present them in a unique manner. I have many other ideas, but I'd like you all to tell me what you think about it_**

**_Also, while I'm definatley trying to finish this before August 31, 2009, Lacrosse season has started, so I may not have as much time on my hands. Still, I'll update frequentley._**

Semreh realized that, over the past two days, he had developed a very strong, very un-Jedi hatred for that little stone. Two days of hard work, and he had only made slight progress. Every day, hand and Jolon left the base and sat among the wilderness, Semreh glaring in frustration as the pebble continued to stymie him while Jolon wandered the nearby woods, studying them in fascination.

Today was no different, and Semreh, now thoroughly annoyed, approached Jolon angrily.

"Look Jolon," He said, jabbing a finger at the man, "I don't know what you think you're doing, but we can't take the long route with this training. I need to be able to fight now, while our rebellion still has strength and momentum." Jolon, who had been watching a pair of birds building a nest on a tree, put his datapad away and turned to him.

"Didn't your masters ever teach you that the easy paths often lead to the dark side." Jolon said, eying him with a small grin. Semreh felt his face turn red, but determinedly looked the old man in the eye.

"Besides," Jolon continued, "You don't even give me the respect given masters. So, why should I be your master?" Semreh breathed in deeply, letting his boiling annoyance with this balding old man leave him.

"You know as well as I do that we don't have time to take the normal routes of training." Semreh said calmly. "If either of us is going to survive this rebellion, we both need to reach our maximum potential in the least amount of time possible. At the very least, demonstrate what I can learn." Semreh waited, quietly watching Jolon, who kept his face impassive. Jolon just stood there, stroking the tuft of hair on his chin, twisting his goatee nervously.

"Very well." He said finally. "I suppose if you want to learn these techniques, you will have to at least see some examples of them." The old man walked several feet away, leading Semreh to a clearing amongst the trees. He turned, and drew his datapad from his pocket. Punching a few buttons into the pad, he tossed it to Semreh, who caught it.

"Read the text." Jolon said, looking up at the trees. Semreh obliged, reading the tiny text scrolling across the screen.

_At the request of the Jedi Council, I submit this report of my actions on the mission to Metellos, specifically on my use of Force lightning._

_I'd been tracking Dreed Pommel for five days across space before I found him on Metellos .Pommel had taken refuge in an executive suite within the floating city of Ektra. Despite my efforts at stealth, Pommel was somehow alerted to my approach, for when I entered the suite he was already clutching a female human child and holding a blaster to her head._

_Obviously, his intent was to escape and he considered the child his insurance. I had no reason to doubt that he would ultimately kill her, even if I allowed them to board the escape vessel, for I could see what he'd done to the girl's parents and two siblings, whose bodies lay upon the floor of the inner suite._

_In hindsight, there were many possible tactics I might have employed to apprehend Pommel and rescue the child, but I did not consider any options or calculate any angles of attack as I watched him drag her toward the ship. I believe I acted entirely instinctively when I extended my right arm toward Pommel and released a barrage of lightning._

_I did not let loose with Force lightning the way undisciplined beings might release stress. Like other Jedi, I learned of Force lightning at the Jedi Temple, and I am well aware that it is regarded as a dark side power. I never had any special interest in Force lightning, or felt compelled to experiment with it, but I knew it was-at least in me-an innate ability. I did not feel anger as I directed the lightning at Pommels head, nor did I fear for the girl's safety. I was calm and in control of my faculties. I merely acted to end the situation before any innocents died._

_Upon being struck by the first bolt, Pommel reacted as anticipated as the shock seized his system. His arms flew out and away from his body, releasing both the blaster and the child, who fell safely to the landing pad. A second bolt ensured that Pommel would remain unconscious until local authorities arrived. I was never tempted to deal a killing blow._

_The Council asked me to contemplate whether I would hesitate to use Force lightning again, and whether I was wrong to employ it on Metellos. After much meditation, I believe it would be wrong to ignore this power that I might develop into a useful technique for combat. As for whether I was wrong to use it, I believe the only person who can rightfully answer that is a five-year-old girl. Her name is Claria Labreezle, and she has been placed with relatives at Stratablock 7 on Metellos. May the Force be with us all._

_Jedi Master Plo Koon_

Semreh looked up from the datapad, staring open mouthed at Jolon.

"You want to teach me how to use Force lightning?" He said suspiciously. "Hardly a skill a member of the Jedi Rebellion should be using."

"You want to learn to fight using your own unique skill?" Jolon shrugged, lowering his body into a crouching position. "This is how." He had his right bandaged arm extended at a downward angle in front of him, while his left hand gripped his shoulder. Jolon's face was a mask of concentration as he watched his hand, which had tensed and looked like almost claw like as he dug his fingers deep into the ground.

Then, Semreh felt the slightest, the oh so slightest bust of the Force come from him, and several of the trees surrounding the meadow exploded, flying upwards as a burst of pure yellow electric energy threw them upwards. The trees caught fire from the sheer intensity, burning as they fell back to the ground. With a shout of surprise, Semreh threw himself to the side, barely avoiding one of the falling missiles.

"What the hell was that!?" He yelled as he dragged himself to his feet. Jolon shrugged, swayed, and, with a groan of sudden weakness, fell to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

Three hours later, Semreh listened as Jolon explained the technique from a cot in their room.

"Plo Koon called it Electric Judgment." Jolon began, starting to unwrap his right arm, inspecting it. "As you read, he said he felt he had an innate ability towards it. This innate ability is the same power as you and I have. Like us, Plo Koon's connection to the Force was limited by the Concil, to ensure that he did no harm to either himself or those around him. However, it seems that Plo Koon removed his restraints during his mission to apprehend Pommel. Naturally, being a fully fledged Jedi Knight, the Council allowed him to advance that technique even further, until he was able to use Force lightning. Of course, not stemming from rage or anger, the lightning takes a different color from the Sith variation. In my case, it is yellow in color, as it was with Plo Koon." Semreh stared at the old man, then shook himself.

"Did you know Master Plo Koon?" He asked curiously. Jolon nodded, a distant look on his face.

"Yes," he answered, "Long ago." He looked into the distance, as if remembering something long forgotten.

"Anyways," he continued, "When I learned of the connection between Plo Koon's power and my own, I was naturally fascinated. You see, I'm something of a scientist, always trying to delve deeper into the mysteries of the Force using scientific methods and study. Experiments and the like. Tell me Semreh, what do you think using the Force is exactly?" Semreh shrugged. He'd never really thought about it.

"Dunno," He said, rubbing the stubble beginning to grow on his chin. He really needed a good shave. "The manipulation of the Force through midi-chlorians?"

"Exactly!" Jolon said, dramatically jabbing his finger into the air. "So, why do you and I, despite our relatively average midi-chlorian count and strength in the Force, have such an extraordinaryconnectionto it? Why?" Semreh shook his head, still interested, but now thoroughly lost.

"I don't know." He said hesitantly.

"And neither do I." Jolon admitted, smiling that weird smile of his, his voicing rising in excitement. "That's the beauty of it. Perhaps, if we discover the secret of this, we could, in fact, discover why the midi-chlorians give us this connection to the energy field known as the Force. That, a question that scientists have been searching for since the knowledge of midi-chlorians came to be, could open up whole other avenues to the Force." He fell back in his bed, breathing a little heavily. Semreh watched him for a few moments, surprised by his revelations.

"That's great and all," Semreh said a little cautiously. Clearly Jolon was passionate about his research. "But how does that relate to using Force lightning without resorting to the emotions of the dark side?" Jolon, still breathing a little hard, pulled himself up higher in his bed.

"Why, young Semreh, does the Council stem the powers of Jedi, like you and I, who inherit these powers?" Jolon asked, steepling his fingers.

"Because if our emotions get out of control, we may hurt those around us." He said simply, shrugging. "At least, that's what you told me."

"Ah," he said, smiling as if he'd tricked Semreh. "But did I say anything about emotion? You see, using Force lightning for us, due to our unique connection to the Force, does not require emotion. In fact, it requires only an absence of emotion, and a will to use it. Plus, a great amount of skill in controlling the Force."

"How much skill in the Force?" Semreh asked. "And, if you're so skilled at…what did you call that? Electric Judgment?" Jolon nodded. "Well, why did it almost cripple you to use it?"

"Well, you've seen me use it twice, remember?" Semreh thought back, but only remembered once; here, in this clearing.

"Actually, no, I don't remember." He answered, shrugging.

"It was back on Kessel." Jolon said. "I used it to destroy that squad of stormtroopers." Semreh gasped, remembering the way the troopers arms had shook and jolted. As if electrified.

"That's what that was." Semreh exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "You shocked them, using the floor as a conductor!"

"Exactly," Jolon said pointedly, "And the floor in that mine was metal, allowing me to easily conduct it. I barely had to exert myself at that time. However, today, I was channeling the lightning through the ground, which required an almost impossible effort from me. As you saw, I passed out."

"Right," Semreh said, nodding in understanding, "So, when using this technique, it can be blocked by objects that don't conduct electricity. "

"Exactly." Jolon said, "Now, I have another question for you. Where do you believe this energy comes from?"

"The Force?" Semreh ventured, but stopped as Jolon shook his head.

"No. Now, the old records claim that the energy comes from life itself, which is why it is impossible to use it with artificial limbs. Personally, I did not believe, as many of the Jedi did, that it came from our own life force. It made no sense scientifically. So, I did research. I found that the energy comes from your own body, specifically your own nervous system."

"Our own…nervous system." Semreh said incredulously. He'd never guessed his own body had that much power.

"Yes. Your nervous system is an enormous system of specialized cells called neurons that use a type of electricity to carry messages through your body, indicating pain and other feelings. The Force is used to redirect this specialized energy from the nervous system, directing it out of the body and through the air, towards any target you'd wish. This also explains why Force lightning is different from normal electricity. While normal electricity causes physical damage only, Force lightning has been said to also cause emotional damage, draining an enemy's will to fight. This is the effect of that specialized electricity on the enemy's own nervous system. It interferes with the enemy's, creating a wide array of pain, but also interfering with the energy within their minds, demoralizing them."

"However, there are dangers." Jolon continued, "The Force amplifies the power of your own nerve energy, meaning you don't need to use much of the energy from your nervous system. Still, that energy does come from your own body, meaning sustained use of it is draining. The first symptoms are a powerful numbing feeling, as the energy in your body is depleted. Beyond that, you will feel paralysis, and finally, death as your nervous system shuts down and is unable to carry information to your major organs. Therefore, you must carefully ration how much you use it. Even the most powerful Sith and Jedi would only use it in short bursts. You use a burst, then wait for your body's systems to recover, then, use it again."

"So, how do I learn to control it?" Semreh asked. Jolon raised his arm, unwrapping it.

"First, you need to learn how to control the Force with as much subtlety as possible. Otherwise…" He let the wrapping fall to the floor. There, on his hand, were bright red marks that looked as if the blood below were boiling. "You will lose control, and probably lose your hand." Semreh blanched. He'd seen terrible injuries. After all, he'd fought in the forefront of the Clone Wars, where the shattered bodies of clones and Jedi were common place. Still, these terrible boils were self inflicted. He caught himself.

"Why'd you get so injured?" Semreh asked, masking his brief nausea. "I thought you'd have excellent control, considering you're the teacher." Jolon rewrapped his arm slowly, sighing.

"No matter how good you are, the sheer power of using Force lightning, at least, in my experiments, will cause some damage to your body. Of course, there are ways to counter this, but, you'll learn these with time." His arm fully rewrapped, he sat back, watching Semreh. His eyes were like a mother eagle watching her chick slowly venture towards the edge of the nest, watchful and hopeful at the same time.

"You know, a student generally calls his teacher master. I don't suppose you'd mind showing me some respect now." Semreh looked at him, feeling a sudden admiration for this old man, who seemed intent on discovering the Force, even in his old age. Still, Semreh couldn't bring himself to call this man master. To him, master would always be a title he could only attach to Master Nostwa.

"Jolon," he began quietly. "I'll call you master when you earn it. Just like I'll earn the right to more knowledge from you. Agreed?" Jolon leaned back into his bed, closing his eyes.

"You're a stubborn one Semreh. Make sure you don't overestimate your abilities though. Now, go practice with your rock."

**_Thanks for reading. _**

**_P.S. I'm writing a one shot talking about Semreh's experiance in the Clone Wars. It's meant to help introduce a few new characters that are going to become pretty regular._**


	34. Chapter 34 Battle Plans

**_I think this one turned out nicely. I am planning to give Scout a master in the next couple of chapters, just to give you an idea. Also, i may not write for a while due to a bad case of "Post-favorite character death depression" (One of my favorite characters in a series just died. Pathetic i know, but I just can't help myself ;)_**

**_Anyways, I'm also finishing up Semreh's prequel three shot, and I really think it's a good idea for you guys to read it, mostly because it introduces new characters into this story. Here's the partial link-_**

**_.net/s/4847842/1/Alone_in_the_Dark_**

**_fill in the rest yourself please_**

**_Thanks_**

Prime Minister Kalasaad Wotzu was a very gracious host, particularly for somebody who had just lost a healthy amount of money to his guests. While the casinos used those strange birdlike guards, the Prime Minister's mansion seemed to be manned by a mix of Selonian, Paigun, Hrakian, Vorzydiak, and human soldiers. According to the Prime Minister, the soldiers were not all native to Vorzyd V, but were a collection from the many soldiers of the Commonality, which included the planets included Columex, Hraki, Paigu, Kilmauls, Seftek, Vorzyd IV, and Vorzyd V. Evidently, the Commonality had consolidated its militaries into a cohesive force during the Clone Wars in order to better defend their space. The fleet above the planet was only one of several that the Commonality could field.

After the incident at Rendali, Sonya knew that the Republic kept a close eye on the planetary defense force, in order to ensure that no other systems considered taking their fleets into the Separatist forces. She knew that the new Empire would have posted their own officers on each planets fleet, in order to ensure loyalty to the new order.

However, according to Kalasaad Wotzu, the Empire had yet to garrison any soldiers, stormtrooper or otherwise, on their backwater planets. This meant that the Commonality's fleets and armies were still largely under local command. Of course, this was likely to change as soon as the Empire's new taxes were imposed.

"But, I must confess," The man said, sipping from a glass as he lounged in one of the plush couches of his red colored lounge, "I wonder; why would a gambler such as you wish to know how the Commonality's military is organized?" Sonya tried to shrug off his question, eyes flashing a warning at Scout. She didn't get it.

"Because we want your assistance against the Empire." She said, almost cheerfully, to the man. Kalasaad Wotzu's eyes bulged and he coughed, spitting out some of the tan liquid he'd been drinking. A Selonian guard, moving his weasel body in a slinking fashion, stepped forward to pat the man on the back as he hacked.

"The- The girl seems to have a way with words." The Prime Minister said with a wiry grin when the coughing subsided. "But I'm afraid I'm in no mood for jokes today." Sonya hesitated. She didn't like rushing into these negotiations. She would have preferred to have gradually brought the man up to date.

"I'm afraid the girl is not joking." Sonya said, throwing an angry look at Scout, who looked back determinedly, face turning red. "We represent an organization that we believe could assist you in preventing the Empire from imposing taxes on your gambling industry. This organization…Well, we want to prevent the Empire's growth anyway we can. Our goal is to, at the very least, prevent the Empire from expanding into the Outer Rim as best as we can."

Kalasaad Wotzu was rubbing his temples now, clearly unnerved by the proposition that was being laid before him. Signaling for his guards to leave, the collection of soldiers and servants shuffled out of the room.

"I wish you would be a little more careful when you talk about these things." He groaned. "Now I'm going to have each of those soldiers going back to their respective planets, talking about how Vorzyd V is trying to challenge the Empire."

"The more the merrier." Scout said with a wide grin. "If the whole Commonality joins, you could secede from the Empire and form your own system."

"And trade with who exactly?" The Prime Minister said in a slightly irritated tone. "With the majority of the galaxy under Imperial control, we would gradually have our economy strangled. There are other worlds where people can go to gamble."

"And there are other worlds that want to secede from the Empire." Sonya shot back. "If we add the Commonality to this alliance of planets, we could have a free area of the galaxy. Free from oppression, from their racist laws." She paused for dramatic effect. "From their taxes."

That got his attention. The Prime minister, now looking thoroughly interested, stood up and walked to the window, looking down at the city above. After a few minutes, he spoke, his voice slow and steady.

"My people are not, how you say, rich. Though our casinos make thousands of credits every second, little of that comes back to either my government or the people. These casinos are privately owned you see. But because the casinos control every aspect of our economy, I cannot levy taxes against them to pay for welfare or anything else. It is a delicate situation, but the casino owners now virtually control, not only my government, but the planet."

Sonya waited, legs crossed patiently. She knew the Prime Minister's dilemma; it was one that had been repeated on dozens of planets.

"Still," he continued, "If the Empire is planning to tax said casinos, than the casino owners would certainly be up in arms over such an action. I'm certain their donations to the cause would be very generous. If they pass that money to my government, and then I pass said money onto you…Well, either way, the leaders of the Commonality will have to meet, and that will take time. There are procedures, diplomatic packages to send, people to contact…"

"We'll wait." Sonya said, a determined look in his eyes. Kalasaad Wotzu's face fell even further.

"Fine," he said, getting to his feet with a resigned grin. "But if you're going to stay here, would you mind assisting me in contacting the rest of the Commonality. Make yourselves useful, you know." Sonya ignored that shot at her and turned to Scout, who nodded slightly.

"Great," she said. "Where do you want us to go?"

"Kilmaulsias would be a good start." The Prime Minister said, already signaling for his attendants to begin comming people. "They are a rather warlike people. They can make starships and comlinks, but prefer not to. Instead, they live within nature, training and making war on each other, various clans battling other clans. The only thing that would unite them is a common enemy outsider. They are ferocious fighters, and would make powerful allies in the upcoming struggle."

"Kilmaulsi…" Scout said, brushing a strand of red hair from her eyes. "Isn't that-"

"The type of aliens we had guarding the casino and the ones who you managed to knock around." Kalasaad Wotzu said with a nod and a wink. "Great job by the way. They will listen to you, as long as you prove yourself. The Empire's xenophobic policies are well known to them and have been a common discussion during meetings between the Commonality. They'll fight, and well." The Prime Minister looked at a datapad presented to him by one of his aides, nodded, and punched something into the keypad.

"As you probably know," He said turning back to them, "The Commonality contains several non-human species within it."

"Ah," Sonya said, looking at the old man in admiration, "So you're not just looking out for the welfare of Vorzyd V. You want to help protect species within the Commonality as well."

"Exactly." He grinned. "Though I still wonder what we are going to do about the enemy fleet."

"Our commander has some ideas for that too." Sonya said, pulling a holodisk from her pocket. "At the meeting, give this to whoever runs the factories in this sector. It contains amounts and details on what we want built." Kalasaad Wotzu hesitated for a moment, as if he was unsure whether to take it or not, then nodded.

"All right then." He said. "I suppose I'll see you all in a month or so. I'll contact you with the rendezvous point for the meeting. Is that agreeable?" Scout and Sonya looked at each other. The both nodded.

"Yes, and good luck Prime Minister." The man laughed, his walrus mustache shaking.

"If I had luck today," He exclaimed with a smile, "I would never have met you two."

* * *

"As you can see," Sami told the collection of Jedi and Chasers, indicating a holographic representation of the planet Melida/Daan. "We've begun dividing the planet into military zones, each of which is being fortified by Ranger Chaser's as we speak." Semreh silently groaned. These strategy sessions were remarkably boring.

So far, all he'd learned was that the Melida/Daan could do next to nothing to help them until the ruling Council agreed to help them. All they could do for now was make covert preparations, which meant months and months of monotonous work building hidden fortifications in the hill countries and shelters for refugees. All done by the few hundred Chasers who manned the base outside of Zehava.

"Each of these military zones contains strategic locations that will need to be held by the Empire if Melida/Daan is to fall." Sami continued. "Using a series of powerful planetary shield generators around the areas, we should be able to interlock enough of these military zones to create one powerful shield to protect the whole planet from Imperial bombardment."

"And when the Imperials land ships through the shields." One cowled Chaser asked, his long hood rustling as he shifted.

"Nobody beats us on our own turf." Sami said with a grin. "Especially not when each of the military districts is so heavily fortified.

"That's easy for a Ranger Chaser to say." Another man, this one wearing a sharp and professional black suit, "But you are not in charge of protecting the president. When the time comes and the Imperials invade, it's likely they will attempt to behead the government with assassination. Where do you plan to hide the Council and President Nield?"

The Council is under the protection of the National Army and the Militias." Sami said with an exasperated sigh. "And we can't bring them into the fold until we are certain the Council will side with us. As for Nield…I believe that here in Zehava is the best place for him. From here in these bunkers, surrounded by Chasers, he will be safe." The suited man, a Chaser with dark black hair cropped short, leaned back onto the wall of the war room, nodding in satisfaction.

That was another thing Semreh had learned over the past two weeks of waiting through endless talks and discussions. The Chasers, united behind Nield as they seemed, always seemed to be in fierce competition with each other.

On the one hand, you had the Ranger Chasers, whose job it was to patrol the countryside, stopping things like spice trafficking and slaver operations. They were the ones wearing heavy hooded cowls and patrolling the countryside in small groups. There rough and tumble attitude hid thier proffessionalism.

The Shield Chasers were drastically different. They were highly trained special ops units, designed for two things; infiltration and protecting President Nield. They, having too often meet with important dignitaries and allies, adopted a more formal appearance. Suits and ties all around. Beneath those though, their blasters and stun sticks were readily at hand, and their training in hand to hand combat and weapons technology was second to none.

"The shield generators and their power sources are buried beneath the bases constructed within each military zone. Therefore, for the Empire to destroy the shield generators, they would have to take the entire base."

"How many zones do we have?" Semreh asked.

"Two are up and running and another nine are under construction." Sami answered, indicating at the screen. "We've used droids for construction and dug the bases into mountains and foot hills in order to ensure the Empire doesn't discover what we are doing."

"Don't the local garrisons ever ask about materials being carried through the areas?" Jolon asked. Sami laughed a little and Semreh saw the Shield Chaser smile a little.

"Do you really think there's still a garrison here, Jedi?" the man asked. "We removed that problem a week ago. Luckily, it wasn't a big or advanced garrison. About forty stormtroopers in Zehava and one hundred Imperial Army troopers. I have some of my men posing as stormtroopers and officers in order to ensure the Empire doesn't get suspicious. We send a report a day via com transmissions. The planet is now completely under our control." Semreh nodded in approval, but inside, he felt squeamish. He'd served for too long besides the clones to no longer feel anything when some of them died, particularly at his own order.

"And what about the Council?" he continued, looking at the Shield Chaser. "Will the authorize mobilization of the militias." The man sighed and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

"You know how politicians are." He ground out. "Nield urges swift action, and they dig their heels into the ground more. I think a few of them are more concerned with keeping their pockets heavy with Imperial credits." Semreh looked down, deep in thought. If the Council was corrupt, that put them all in danger. Especially if they were on an Imperial payroll.

For not the first time since Scout had managed to convince him to join onto this crazy crusade, Semreh found himself asking what he was doing here. They couldn't attack the Empire and win. Semreh still wondered whether they could defend from the Empire and win. Did he want to create a banner with which to draw Jedi out of hiding? Did he want to draw the Empire's attention away from their hunt? Or did he want to help a small section of the Empire break away before it was too late. Semreh still didn't know the answer.

"The only problem now is weaponry." Sami continued. She clicked a button and a list of the weaponry for each military zone sprung up. "You can see here that we are extremely lacking in heavy and modern weaponry. We've got speeder mounted concussion missiles hidden in the foot hills and mountains so they can be moved from one piece of cover to another, and we've even managed to salvage a battery of Discord missiles and their Buzz droids from an old Sep ship. Still, we need turbolasers, heavy cannons and stationary artillery. Otherwise, they'll just break right through our line with AT-TE's."

"Why not just have a flexible guerrilla defense?" One of the hooded Rangers asked loudly.

"Because an overly flexible defense will not protect our villages and cities." Sami answered. "Which, if we are to hold our own planet under our control, is essential."

"Yeah," Semreh agreed, "our job is to hold this planet so the Empire can't use it as a base for further operations in the Outer Rim. Besides, our allies will provide us with supplies soon enough."

"And who are these allies?" The Shield Chaser asked suspiciously.

"Nobody you need to know yet." Semreh shot back. "All you need to know is that they're giving you big guns with which to shoot Imperials with." When the Chaser's grew silent, staring at him, he sighed and looked at each of them.

"Listen, I intend to keep everyone in the dark about everybody else for now. Otherwise, our whole organization could be compromise by one captured soldier." The Chaser's all slowly nodded. After all, they were black ops soldiers. Being kept in the dark was part of the job.

"Very well." Sami finally said, breaking the silence. "Either way, all we can do for now is continue preparing our defenses for the Imperial party."

"Agreed." Semreh said with a nod. "I'll make sure those turbolasers are brought as soon as possible. Then, even if the Empire does invade, we'll make them pay for every inch they take." The Chasers nodded in approval and, as if on some hidden cue, walked from the war room.

* * *

"Gentlemen." Nield said to the assembly. The whole Council was gathered around him now, men and women of learning and diplomatic skill. They were fools. "The Empire is on the move. Under the Republic, our planet has been allowed the freedom and the rights we deserve. I do not believe the Empire will show the same respect. If we are to defend ourselves, we must begin making preparations now." The Council before him was dead quiet. Nield could almost feel their animosity, like a wave of glares and glowering faces.

Made up of ten elected members, the Council represented the various districts of Melida/Daan. Together, they made the majority of the decisions for the government. In fact, Nield knew that, as president, he probably had the least amount of power in the whole government.

Since the President was elected for life, he was given very little power. He was the chief commander during war and commander of the Chaser, but that was it. The Council commanded the National Army and Navy, and only they could muster the militias. Anything he did had to be approved by the Council. Unfortunately, this included declaring Melida/Daan to be in a state of rebellion.

"Why should we challenge the Empire?" An elderly councilman named Alem asked in his throaty voice. "Yes, they use our space lanes to mobilize their fleet, but is that such a large price to pay for the security of the planet. The Republic certainly never kept its presence enforced in the Outer Rim."

"Yes," Another named Sheen said. He was a slick haired man and a skilled politician. He was also Nield's biggest opponent on the Council. For years, the two of them had maneuvered around each other, each jockeying for more power on the Council. "In our current situation, we command a certain amount of power from the Imperial Senate. Our own Senator Aklain says that he meets with the Emperor on a daily basis and is on the verge of entering his inner circle."

"So, what you suggest is that we pander to the Empire while they slowly take away any lingering independence we have." Nield exclaimed through gritted teeth. "What about the Republic?" He turned to one of the Councilwomen, a woman about his own age named Roenni. She'd been a member of the Young during the civil war and had even fought during the rebellion against the Separatists.

"You remember the days when our planet was ravaged by war." He said pleadingly. "You know the Imperials will bring that madness on us again. Unless we prepare, it will be ten times worse than the Separatist invasion." Roenni looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded.

'I certainly understand how you feel old friend." She said loud enough for the whole Council to hear. "But we have no proof that the Empire wishes to attack. And even if they did, what would we do? Ordering the Militias to organize will not help protect us. We would only lose more lives." Nield suddenly found himself at a loss. His greatest ally and oldest friend on the Council wouldn't support him. For a moment, Nield considered giving up. Who cared about the Jedi now? Who cared if the last of them were scoured from the galaxy? All he had to do was keep the peace on this planet. That was his job. That was what he'd promised Cerasi. Then, Nield shook himself and looked up at the Council again.

"Whether or not you prepare the militias is irrelevant" He declared, putting every ounce of confidence and courage into his voice. "Eventually, the Empire will either install its own governor here, or attack. When they do, the Chasers and I will be ready. I just hope you will be too." With that, Nield straightened his suit and strode from the room, followed closely by his two Shield Chasers, Fless and Sten.

As soon as they were out of the room, Fless wordlessly handed him a small palm held holoprojector. Nield activated it and the head of his Shield Chasers, a man named Daichi, shot to life.

"It is as you ordered President Nield." The small holographic figure said sharply. "Commander Sami has begun preparing defenses against bombardment and ground assault. She has the details ready for your review and approval." Nield nodded and sighed slightly. The fact that the Council had not mentioned any unusual Chaser movements confirmed his suspicions; they had no idea that he had already begun preparations. After all, the Council's National Army wasn't the one that patrolled the countryside. That job belonged to the Rangers, who spent their time carrying out his orders.

"Sami has pointed out that neither our space forces nor our emplaced land weapons have anti-capital ship capability. She thinks we will have to keep the generators up long enough to force the Imperial forces to come at us from the land."

"And do you agree?" Nield asked, squinting at the tiny figure. He trusted Daichi's opinion with his life, and the life of Melida/Daan.

"Honestly sir," he began slowly, "I don't think that this battle you're planning will end well either way, but Sami's tactical capabilities are the best I've seen in years. If the Imperials come down, she can kick them back out."

"The real question," he continued, standing stiffly at attention. "Is whether the Council will provide us with the soldiers to man the defenses? If they don't, it won't matter how strong our defenses are. Will they?"

"Probably not." Nield answered, rubbing his temples. "At least, not before the Imperials move first. Supposedly, they need proof of Imperial aggression before they agree to move."

"Want us to make some?" Daichi asked respectfully. Nield shook his head.

"We can't risk the Council realizing that we've been preparing for war. If they decide we are trying to push them to war, we may drive what few allies we have away. No, we will have to figure some other way of convincing them. Could take a while though." Daichi nodded and bowed, placing a fist on his chest.

"As you will, Mr. President." The figure flickered and died as Nield cut the connection.

"He's way to boring." Fless said with a sigh. He shook his head, letting his slicked back red hair mess up a little. "I still don't know why you put that stiff in charge."

"Because you turned the job down." Sten suggested quietly. The two of them chuckled quietly.

"Nah," Fless said, wrapping his arms around his head as if lounging in the sun while walking. "I'm too cool to be some boss man. Daichi does fine."

"He'd better." Nield said, "We'll need his skills for the next couple years at least. Anyways, let's get to the Chaser Headquarters. Sami will want me to review her battle plans as soon as possible. She get's ornery when things aren't set up as quickly as possible."

"Melida/Daan is one of the gateways to the Outer Rim right?" Fless questioned, "I suppose that means that we'll make our first defense for this rebellion here?" Nield nodded, and waved for them to follow him.

"Exactly." Nield said, getting into a landspeeder that would take him and his bodyguards to the base. "And I plan to be ready, whether the Council is or not."


	35. Chapter 35 Three Weeks Later

**_Jeez, sorry it took so long to update, but I've had a hell of a few weeks. ACTs, Lacrosse tryouts, etc... Yeah, so here's chapter 35. Hope you enjoy it. Trust me, I'm going to kick my writing into overdrive. I plan to finish this thing by August...But hey, who knows. _**

As the _Arrow _knifed through the atmosphere of the Kilmaulsi home world, Scout was surprised to see that the landscape seemed to be devoid of any civilization. It was all forest ranging as far as the eye could see, with only a few heavily forested canyons marring the landscape.

"The Kilmaulsi pretty much ignore technology." Their guide and translator, a small floating droid called I-C said in a mechanical voice. The small droid had been loaned to them by the Prime Minister of Vorzyd V, and specialized in translating the various languages of the Commonality. Unlike most droids, it moved through repulsorlift rather than the legs and wheels used by most droids, and it's round surface was devoid of any noticeable ridges or devices, except for one small green device that Scout assumed was his eye.

"They focus more on honing their skills in tribal and religious warfare that's been going on for centuries, then building great cities." The droid continued. "The coordinates we received are supposed to lead us to the largest of their tribes, which is also the only one with any type of long range communications or landing pad. The rest are isolated and nomadic tribes that survive independently of the rest."

"What do they fight with?" Sonya asked from the pilot's seat. "They aren't supposed to have a lot of high tech devices, right?"

"I doubt they'd need anything high tech." Scout answered, looking up from a datapad she was reading. "It says here that they're supposed to be almost like wookies. We all know they don't need any weapons to be deadly." Sonya nodded and looked at the floating droid, asking for conformation.

"Actually, the young girl is right." The droid said, moving in upwards in what looked eerily like a shrug. "My data shows that the Kilmaulsi are related to a local avian species. While they are no longer capable of flight, certain qualities, like excellent eyesight and reflexes have been kept by the species. This, in addition to their talons and warrior culture, has given them all the qualities of an excellent fighting race."

"Hence, why those who go off planet and work as mercenaries are highly valued." Sonya finished with a nod. "I remember Bren and I once lost a contract to a group of Kilmaulsi."

"Yes, but the mercenary Kilmaulsi are actually generally considered inferior to those who stay on planet." I-C warned, zooming closer so his. "This is because the local Kilmaulsi are famous for engaging in constant warfare that sharpens their skills in combat. They've even perfected a martial arts style said to on par with the famous Echani fighting style."

"Umm, question?" Scout interrupted, raising a hand. "If the Kilmaulsi are so prone to fighting each other, what makes you think they will be able to unite with us?" I-C turned to the young Jedi, clearly annoyed at being interrupted by the impudent young girl.

"Records show that the three times in history the Kilmaulsi united, it was against a common outsider enemy." I-C reported, buzzing around Scout's head. "The first time, it was against some ancient that are only known through ancient cave paintings. The other two were space faring races that landed intent on conquering the various tribes. Records show that they failed miserably."

"And you think they'd consider the Empire a big enough threat when they haven't even been attacked yet?" Sonya asked, still concentrating on finding a landing spot amongst the far ranging woods and canyons. "I mean, it's not like they have any reason to fight the Empire yet."

"Their alliance with the Commonality is important to them." I-C continued. "Over the years, during hard times where food was scarce, the various planets of the Commonality sent aid to its people. If the Commonality goes to war, the Kilmaulsi will follow." Scout nodded to herself and watched as Sonya zoomed in low, finally finding the landing zone they were looking for.

It was a small outcropping in one of the canyons, skillfully hidden by trees and brush that hung from the canyon's ledge. Upon closer examination, Scout saw that a whole village seemed to be built into the rock wall. Homes jutted out of the wall, supported by struts and stilts as they hung precariously over the river below. The homes and buildings were connected by ropes and wooden platforms that the Kilmaulsi, both young and old, leapt across fearlessly.

"Related to birds indeed." Sonya said with a touch of humor in her voice. "These people don't need wings. They're so agile!"

"It's their bone structure." I-C said, floating back into the cabin of the _Arrow_ as Scout and Sonya lowered the ramp. "Their hollow bones allow them to jump higher, move faster, and fall lighter than most other species. Of course, this comes at a cost."

Scout nodded at the small droid, remembering how easy it had been to throw and defeat the Kilmaulsi on Vorzyd V.

"Are you sure they're of good fighters as they claim?" She asked the droid as they walked down the ramp.

"Like I stated earlier." I-C said voice suddenly mechanically stoic. "The warriors here are a completely different breed, born to fight and defend their villages from constant attacks. Ah, here comes the welcoming committee now."

Scout turned and saw a small squad of Kilmaulsi leaping through the trees towards them. They were extremely acrobatic, jumping and flipping from branch to branch with the skill and grace of acrobats. One of them, smaller than the rest, was also obviously the leader. He raised his hand, in his fellow tribesmen dropped from the branches, landing around the _Arrow_, nonchalantly crouching and watching the three of them.

Scout watched the warriors, surprised by their appearance. They certainly looked like wookies in many ways, standing almost two meters tall with feathered and taloned arms that looked like they could crush durasteel. But beyond that, the resemblance ended.

Unlike the wookies, whose bodies were covered in long shaggy hair, the Kilmaulsi's bodies were bald except for their arms and their chins, where darkly colored feathers hung off. The area under the chin seemed to act like a beard for the Kilmaulsi, as the feathers there looked carefully preened. Obviously, they were too small to ever provide any lift for flight, but they still seemed to, judging by the color, provide a certain decoration.

The rest of them were covered in skin of varying color. It was rough and a little wrinkled, as if it was stretched in some areas, and loose in others. Their faces were dominated by wide blue eyes and a mouth that looked more like a flattened beak.

The Kilmaulsi also didn't seem to shun clothing as much as the wookies. While still scantily clad, they wore an odd type of armor that covered their broad chest, shoulders, and shins. Their talons and their hands were obviously left uncovered to add to their lethal effect.

Besides the talons, their armor was also covered in weapons. Wrapped around each of the Kilmaulsi's chests, arms and feet were straps and bandoliers that held knives and other tools in place. Scout saw everything from jagged pieces of bone to what looked like bundles of thin strands of wire attached to their bodies.

Scout felt Sonya reach for her blaster, but stopped her, grabbing her arm. I-C quickly floated forward, letting out a screech and squawking sound that was obviously meant to mimic the Kilmaulsi language. The leader nodded and signaled for his warriors to disperse, which they promptly did, leaping about through the trees.

"What did he say?" Scout asked, looking at the little droid suspiciously.

"Oh, just that he knew we were coming. Their village possesses the only long range comlink system on the planet. He also just sent his companions to ready the village for our arrival, and to begin gathering the various clans and leaders to this village." The droid said, spinning in front of them. "He claims that, while you were expected, three weeks' notice was not nearly enough to rally the various leaders for a meeting to decide whether to ally with you or not."

"I thought you said that they owed the Commonality." Scout whispered in an annoyed voice.

"I suppose I did." I-C huffed a little angrily. "But not all the tribes are as loyal as this one. Many would be likely to side with the Empire, if only to strike at old adversaries within their fellow Kilmaulsi. These religious wars have left deep scars and deep divisions."

"So what you're telling me." Scout began, eyeing their Kilmaulsi guide suspiciously, "Is that we're as likely to be killed by one tribe, and saved by the next!?"

"Exactly." I-C hummed happily, starting to dance about Sonya and Scout in a bobbing fashion. "My gambling processors are very good, and show that we have about a fifty/fifty chance. Good odds."

Silently, Scout groaned. Somehow, she should have expected the Prime Minister to do something like this.

* * *

"Commander Bren!" A deck officer named Dellian Cel shouted from his post on the bridge of the Acclamator. "We have unknown contacts exiting hyperspace in combat sector three."

Bren pushed himself from his chair and rushed to the young man's station, trying to decipher the radar system. There was only one, but it was no lone freighter judging from the size.

"Bring a visual onscreen." He snapped to Bolt, his second in command, who quickly began bringing sensors to bear on the target. A second later, an image snapped onto the view screen. Bren recognized the ship as one of the Sabaoth-class destroyers, a type commonly used by pirates and other irregular forces. As its sleek birdlike form slipped through space towards them, klaxons sounded and all around him, Bren saw his guerrillas turned pilots rushing to their gunnery stations and prep for combat.

"Make ready, but hold your fire!" Bren shouted over the clamor. "They could be allies."

"Shoot first, ask questions later." Bolt said leaning against his consol as the two ships closed. "That's my opinion."

"Luckily," Bren said sharply, "That doesn't matter very much here." Normally, Bren put up, and even admired Bolt's stoic attitude, but today was not one of those days.

"Commander Bren," Dellian said, looking up from his position in the officer's pit. "Port side guns are fully loaded and ready to fire on your order. We are also receiving a transmission from the contact."

"Put it through." Bren said, turning to the view screen. For a moment, the screen fell into static, but soon cleared to reveal a grinning Gavin Sykes looking at the bridge.

"Hey Commander." He said, waving at the stunned bridge. "The Prime Minister of Vorzyd V says hi! Oh, and he also thought we could use something with a little more oomph engine wise." Bren watched as the cruiser approached and snapped an order for all gun crews to stand down.

"Who are they?" Bolt asked in his usual emotionless voice.

"I don't care. As long as they bring a big-ass gun," Bren laughed in a booming voice to his cheering soldiers. "They're friends in my book."

* * *

"So," C-47 said settling down next to CTA-132. "What do we know?" His fellow clone sighed and waved the datapad he was reading.

"Gerik recorded everything the girl confessed. Evidently she was padawans with this Semreh kid, but never knew him that well."

C-41 shook his head irritably. "So, a dead end?" He asked, looking at his comrade's faceless helmet. "Are you sure?"

"No." He said, handing the datapad to C-41. "She had a lot of info. We know everything from his allergies to his favorite type of ship. And, we do have one lead. Evidently, this kid spent a lot of time in the archives and at one point, had a special datapad made that was frequently updated with diplomatic information and news reports through the archives. If we can find the signal that that datapad was using…"

"We find the kid." C-41 finished with an enthusiastic nod. "The only problem now is getting into the archives."

"It won't be a problem." CTA-132 said, waving his hand nonchalantly. "I can easily hack the system using the holonet from here. Once we have his location…we take him and the girl down."

* * *

Semreh leapt through the air, landing in a balanced fighting stance, left hand extended, right bent to protect his face with his forearm.

"Good job." The Chaser he was fighting said, taking a step back. "The Echani style of combat is based on quick and ferocious attacks that overwhelm your opponent. You get in close, using rapid elbow strikes and jabs to offset your opponent." The Chaser, a man named Fless, demonstrated, sprinting towards Semreh before he could even prepare himself, and giving him a powerful u upper cutting elbow to the chin. As Semreh stumbled back, he felt the floor disappear as his legs were swept out from under him.

"Then, while your enemy recovers, you strike a finishing blow that disables them." Fless brushed his hands off and stepped forward, offering a hand to Semreh. "Hope this has been educational." He said as Semreh grasped his hand.

"Very." Semreh said, nodding gratefully. "I look forward to our next bout." Semreh bowed low and respectfully. Fless laughed heartily as Semreh straightened himself.

"Jeez kid," He exclaimed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm no master. You don't have to be so stiff you know." Semreh scowled as the red headed man rebuttoned the jacket of his suit back up.

"It's a Jedi thing." Semreh shot back. "I don't want to forget all the things they taught me."

"I see." Fless said, turning to walk from the room. "But you're not gonna do that stuff with me, all right?" Semreh nodded as the Chaser slunk out of the training room.

"He's very skilled." Jolon said from his position perched atop one of the many pipes that ran across the ceiling of the base. "But I still do not understand why you insist on learning such skills. They may be useful for those without the Force, but I could teach you techniques twice as powerful as that."

"Maybe if you actually taught me them," Semreh shot back accusingly. "But so far the only thing I've learned is how to rotate pebbles around my arm." It was true. The past three weeks had been filled with nothing but hours of monotonous work spinning and rotating those tiny rocks for hours on end.

Admittedly, Semreh had improved quite a bit. He could now rotate about fifty pebbles at once, all of them spinning acrobatically around the entire length of his arm. Still, the Empire wouldn't be scared of cheap tricks like that. What he really needed, was a weapon.

"Well," Jolon said, looking Semreh up and down. "I suppose you have mastered the rock technique, so your control over the Force must have increased exponentially. And," He said, jokingly checking an imaginary watch on his wrist, "We are short on time. I suppose teaching you to use Force lightning is a good place to start." Jolon walked to the opposite side of the training room, shedding the white lab coat he wore in absence of a robe.

"The first thing you must know about Force lightning is that it is a double edged sword." Jolon said, as he raised one hand above his head to demonstrate. A blinding light shot from his hand and a crackle filled the air. Lightning, golden yellow and almost alive in its movements, shot upwards from his hand. He continued releasing it for a few more moments, then lowered his hand to his side.

Semreh looked at the hand closely, and saw a thin stream of steam rising from patches of red and irritated skin. All up and down his arm, Jolon had deep red burns on his arm. Yet, even as Semreh spoke, the burns were fading away, covered by new skin that seemed to be flowing over.

"Because Force lightning destroys your own cells in addition to those of your enemies," Jolon continued, moving his arm to test its movement, "It is necessary to heal yourself through the Force while doing it for prolonged usage."

"Really?" Semreh said, looking down at his own hand. Then, a flash of anger jumped through his chest. "Wait, so now I have to learn to heal myself through the Force! What happened to, "We are short on time"." Jolon raised a hand, signaling for Semreh to calm down.

"Easy boy." He said calmingly, "You will have to learn it for some of the more advanced techniques, but for just shooting lightning out of your hand, I can just keep near you, and heal you when you need it. The damage caused by using Force lightning is very little when it is quickly moved out of your system." Semreh nodded, embarrassed that he'd lost control like that.

"I-I'm sorry Jolon." He said bowing. "I should keep my emotions more in check."

"Happens to the best of us." Jolon assured, waving his hand dismissively. "Anyway, I have to ask you something Semreh; have you ever seen old holo's of the Sith Masters?" Semreh jerked a little in surprise. He closed his eyes, thinking back to his days as a student in the temple.

"Yes," He said, his voice lowering as he remembered. "While looking through the archives, I came across a holobook describing the ancient Jedi Civil War. There was a picture of a Sith Master in it. His face was all pale and gaunt. And his eyes…" Inwardly, Semreh shuttered. It was amazing that the mere memory of a picture could make him feel so uneasy.

"Yes," Jolon said, raising his rehealed hand again. "Those are generally the characteristics we've seen in the Sith Lords throughout history. I have researched this, and found that the reason for their appearance is prolonged use of techniques like Force lightning."

"The lightning from their bodies did that to them?" Semreh exclaimed a little disbelievingly. He suddenly felt a little uneasy. He was no super model, but those Sith Lords were worse looking then mynocks.

"Not exactly." Jolon said, "See, Sith lightning is like Electric Judgment in just about every way. The only real difference is that Sith lightning is an uncontrollable wave of energy brought on by powerful emotion, while ours is brought forth by more of a…Determined state of mind. In fact, that is what makes Electric Judgment superior. It allows us better control over the lightning, letting us use it in creative ways."

"And, what does that have to do with why all Sith Lords are uglier than a Hutt at a porno." Semreh asked, impatiently crossing his arms.

"Because," Jolon said, "Like Electric Judgment, Sith lightning damages it's user's body, meaning they must heal themselves while doing it. And the Sith healing method is inherently flawed, doing permanent damage in exchange for short term relief and life. When the Sith are exposed to this technique for too long, as all who use Force lightning are, their cells become corrupted and permanently damaged."

Semreh nodded, looking thoughtful. He supposed, assuming Jolon was telling the truth about Sith Lords having that appearance, that theory would explain a lot. Still, there was one thing that bothered him…

"I have to know Jolon," Semreh said, leaning his back against the wall of the stark training room. "How do you know all this? Where did you discover these secrets?" Jolon turned away, picking up his fallen white coat and putting it over his shoulders.

"Well, that's very easy to answer." He said cryptically over his shoulder, "But not very easy to say."

Semreh rolled his eyes and stepped forward, now thoroughly irritated. "Listen Jolon," He said, grabbing the man's shoulder. "You asked why I don't call you master. Well, this is it. I know nothing about you. When I ask where you came from, all I get are weird little hints that only raise more answers. Now, I want to know where you came from."

Jolon was silent for a minute, just looking forward, his back turned towards Semreh. It was quite in the training room, except for the distant hum of a generator humming somewhere in the base.

"I can tell you some things," Jolon began his voice a little shaky. "But not all. There are some things you don't need to know till the last chapter of your life after all. Some mysteries that need to remain hidden. But yes, I'll tell you my story now…"

**_Show of hand, how many of you groaned :) Don't worry, I'll try to update soon._**


	36. Chapter 36 Secrets

**_Here you go...Jolon's story_**

"I began my life like any other Jedi," Jolon began, shifting into a sitting position on the training floor. "A small infant with no parents except for the stern masters who watched over me. Naturally, this was all years before the Clone Wars, and even well before the Invasion of Naboo. It was then that the Masters, sensing the power I had, very similar to your own, created a set of mental blocks meant to keep those powers in check. A wise decision on their part, as the Force unblocked could have very well killed my fellow younglings."

Semreh nodded, understanding Jolon's reasoning. The Force was powerful, but could also be very unpredictable in someone without the training to control it.

"These restrictions did not disallow me from using the Force." Jolon continued, "In fact, my ability with the Force was so great that I was eventually taken as the personal apprentice of master Yoda when I was six. It was a special training, but not at all like that of master and padawan. I was taken aside, and given special instructions on controlling the Force. By the time I was eight, I was already being looked at by the other masters, and Yoda left me to my own devices. Eventually, after much study and work under my own master, I became a healer in the Temple."

"That's one thing I wanted to ask." Semreh said, tilting his head quizzically, "I've never understood the nature of healing through the Force. How is it done?" Jolon, sighing heavily, raised his hand to his mouth and carefully bit it, drawing blood.

"You see." He said, placing his uninjured hand onto the wrist of his other arm. "Force healing works by accelerating the growth of cells in the injured area, literally regrowing the injured area." As Semreh watched, the skin surrounding the small gash in Jolon's knuckle seemed so seethe and spread, like watching moss grow in fast forward. A second later, it had finished and the gash had filled in with fresh clean skin.

"Like I was saying," Jolon said, raising an eyebrow that warned against further interruptions, "I soon found myself as a Knight working as a healer in the Temple. But I was given the freedom to explore my talents further, going on missions and even taking my own padawan. We traveled the stars together, going on countless missions and fighting together, before she…betrayed me." Semreh started, looking at the old man before him.

"Betrayed you! How?"

Jolon leaned back, looking sad and broken. "We were evading authorities of a planet we were infiltrating when she gave me away to our pursuers. I fought both her and the local police, barely escaping with my life. Then, I ran. I ran for as long as I could, not returning to the Order once the mission ended. I went into hiding, and stayed that way for as long as I could."

"Why not return though?" Semreh said, a touch of doubt entering his voice. "If your padawan turned to the dark side, why not warn them of the danger?"

"I never said she turned to the dark side." Jolon exclaimed sharply, "And I don't know why I never returned. The Council probably believed us both dead, and so never worried about our location. The fact is that I prefer isolation to the bustle of Temple life. In my exile, I could continue to study the Force in peace. Remember, I'm a scientist at heart. Over the years, through meticulous study and preparation, I have probably discovered the largest archive of knowledge ever imagined." With a little flourish, Jolon withdrew a rather large holobook from the inside of his coat. It was about the size of a holobook, with a brown exterior and book like qualities.

"This datapad is an accumulation of years and years of study." Jolon said in a comically obsessed voice. "I have spent years archiving all my studies. Every experiment, every theory, every fact…right here." He patted the holobook companionably, letting it slip back into his coat pocket.

"May I read it?" Semreh said uncertainly.

"Not yet." The old man said, turning to leave the training room. "Someday though, I expect you to continue this. Our Force abilities are a rare talent. Clearly, we were not brought together by accident my young apprentice."

"Jeez," Semreh said, laughing nervously, "Awfully fatalistic, eh."

"Jedi can't afford to be anything else in these dark times." Jolon mumbled darkly. "Either way, I hope you understand me a little better now. However, I would like to hear your story." At Semreh's surprised expression, Jolon smiled and spread his hands wide.

"It's only fair," He said, "That I be allowed to know your past now." Semreh nodded in agreement, and began his story.

He told Jolon about his youth in the Temple, about his friends and his masters. He talked about how he'd excelled in classes about controlling the Force, and how he spent so much time in the archives. When he came to his adventures with his own Master Nostwa, Jolon leaned in, clearly interested in hearing about the brutal Clone Wars. He asked a few questions, but only spoke out when Semreh mentioned how he had been considered for the trials.

"Preposterous!" Jolon exclaimed, waving his words away, "The Jedi would never grant someone of your experience knighthood. Not only that, but there are other aspects of your education that need work."

"The masters said I was ready." Semreh said, shrugging. He was a little stung by Jolon's apparent disdain of his abilities.

"This war," Jolon said, raising a single wrinkled finger for emphasis, "Has turned the ancient training methods into simple basic training for soldiers. There's no more of the old methods, like those practiced by the Dark Woman." Semreh nodded in understanding.

The Dark Woman was a mystery that padawans only whispered about. She was a knight, but had remained almost completely independent of the order. She took several apprentices, including the great Ki-Adi-Mundi and A'Sharad Hett. Her methods were controversial and unorthodox, but created some of the greatest Jedi of their time. Unfortunately, it also created Aurra Sing, a powerful Jedi killer and bounty hunter, who had murdered many of their comrades. Some said that this came about due to the sheer brutality of her training. Hence, the controversy of her methods.

"I'm sure the Council did what it needed to do." Semreh said defensively. "We were at war after all."

"Ha!" Jolon said with a snort, "If the Jedi of old had defended the Temple, even their padawan's would have been victorious. The loss of the Temple just demonstrates how ineffective your training has been. Obviously", He said, tilting his head to the side, "We have a lot of work to do."

Semreh, his pride stung, stood up and followed Jolon from the training room. The man could complain all he wanted as long as he taught Semreh to fight.

* * *

As Tarkin watched the sun set over Coruscant, he couldn't help but wish that he had a view of the Temple at this time of day. It looked so glorious, a single redline blazing across the Temples outline like the fires of Order 66. Glorious…

Shaking himself, Tarkin returned to his desk, poring over papers filled with requisition and troop orders. All across the galaxy, protests and tiny revolutions were popping up like brushfire. Most of these were weak enough for local garrisons to handle, but incidents on Kashyyyk and other planets were straining the resources of the new Imperial Navy.

While the more powerful _Victory_-class were still under construction, the _Venator_-class were struggling to maintain order. While more clones were made, and new recruits flocked to Imperial training centers on Cardia, more and more of these priceless soldiers were being killed and dying of old age. As unbelievable as it sounded, Palpatine's limitless Empire was running low on gas.

A knock at the door jerked Tarkin out of his thoughts, and he beeped the intruder in. it was one of his aides, looking flustered and a little concerned.

"Governor Tarkin," he said after composing himself. "One of our technicians detected a mole in our computer system. The hacker, whoever it was, managed to get through any security we set up and into the Jedi Temple databases." Tarkin stopped for a moment, carefully considering the aide before him.

"Have our own people managed to trace the attack?" Tarkin asked, watching the boy over steepled fingers.

"Intelligence is working on it as we speak." The aide said stiffly. He opened his mouth to say more, but Tarkin cut him off.

"Let them, but do not allow anyone in our own department to assist." Tarkin said, looking at the boy sharply. "Do everything you can to slow down their efforts. In the meantime, make sure we begin our own investigation into the incident. I want to know as much as possible." The aide, clearly not one to question orders, nodded and exited the room swiftly to carry out Tarkin's orders, while Tarkin, looking thoughtful, returned to his work.

* * *

C-41 had been at the hanging around the huge hotel they'd rented to hide out in, relaxing and unwinding for a little bit. Of course, relaxing and unwinding for a clone was more like three weeks of boot camp…but still. The hotel suite they'd rented was large, a small home in and of itself. Nothing like seeing those Republic tax credits at work.

As he was disassembling and wiping down his old friends flechette rifle for the third time, he was disturbed by the quiet sliding the door behind him. Whirling, he drew his blaster pistol from its holster and raised it right into the face of CTA-132 just as the clone brought one of his wrist blades up to his throat.

"Well," CTA-132 growled through his helmet, "This is a new way for a girl to great me when I come back to my apartment."

"Please," C-41 said rolling his eyes. He withdrew his pistol and holstered it with a grunt. "The only girls you've ever seen were in your old unit, bunch of pansies they were." CTA-132 was silent then, and C-41 wondered if he'd gone too far. They'd both lost their entire unit. All their brothers, gone. It was like a hole had been ripped into his stomach, and no matter how much he tried to fill it, it never healed.

"Well," CTA-132 said finally getting to his feet. "I found some very interesting pieces of information on that Temple database, not the least of which is that the signal from that datapad is coming from the Outer Rim, in the this area here." He pointed onto a star map he had pulled up from his wrist datapad, pointing at a cluster of stars just past the Sekena system. Most of the planets there were very backwards and few had any real political power.

"So," C-41 said, getting to his feet, already packing his weapons and set of armor into a small bag. "I suppose we get those mercs up and moving now? What about the kids?"

"We take them with us." CTA-132 said with a small shrug. "Along with the girl. We still need her help if we're going to flush out this kid." C-41 nodded, seeing the logic behind it.

"So, should the mercs go collect her?"

"Yeah," CTA-132 said through his helmet, "After all, that's their job. They do more work so nobody notices a couple of clone troopers showing up wherever these bombings happen." Again, C-41 nodded, and left the room, heading down to where the mercenaries were bunking. Once they were all up and moving to pick up their unwilling addition to the team, C-41 moved up the stairs towards his room. As he walked, he heard voices and instinctively softened his footsteps. It was CTA-132.

"I know you want this padawan." CTA-132 said, probably into a comlink. "And I know there's something different about this one." A pause. "Because I hacked the Temple's databases easily except for one area. Plans, intelligence from the Clone Wars, codes…To be honest, I'm surprised we won the Clone Wars with all that data hanging around. A little scary really. But when I try to get into one little padawans medical files…Bang! It's like I tried to hack the Imperial Intelligence Bureau." He paused again, and then laughed.

"Actually, I did that already. To be honest it was easier than breaking into this kid's medical records. Now, I want to know what's going on. Now!" As C-41 strained to listen, the comlink seemed to buzz loudly. Whoever was on the other line was using their angry voice.

"Understood." CTA-132 said stoically, and clicked his comlink off. Quickly, C-41 snuck back down the stairs as quietly as he could, only stopping when he had made it out and into the lobby of the enormous hotel. As he stood there breathing hard, one question buzzed around his mind; what the heck was going on?

**_I'll try to update soon._**


	37. Chapter 37 Kilmailsi Test

**_All right, more coming soon. Please Review._**

Scout had never had a ton of patience for politics. In fact, she'd rarely met anyone with enough patience for it. Sonya didn't seem to mind, or if she did mind, she hid it well. Either way, as the various chieftains and tribal leaders arrived from the woods surrounding the village, Scout was a little surprised to find herself fascinated with their customs.

Scout's nickname came from her keen observations and skill at seeing things others didn't, and as she watched, she put these skills to use. The various tribes all seemed to possess the same characteristics; that organic armor and the weapons that covered them. Even as Scout watched, the tribal members seemed to split into gangs, each playing games and sports that showed off their skill. This went on for several days without end, and, according to I-C, was traditionally done until the various other tribes got here.

One day, Scout went out to watch the skilled warriors practice. It was amazing. Their multicolored bodies were only blurs as they almost flew at each other, making passes with their deadly belt knives. Unarmed, their style was fluid and graceful. They used everything to their advantage, like wire to trip and trap their opponents. I-C said it was spun from a native arachnid and was tougher than steel. They used it to help them swing through the trees and perform amazing acrobatic stunts.

On this particular day, as Scout watched, the short chieftain of the village approached her, squawking loudly in his language. Scout, looking dumbfounded, just stared in bewilderment as the birdlike creature pointed at himself, and then to the circle where the various Kilmaulsi were sparring with each other.

"No, no," she said, shaking her head firmly. "I can't-" A sudden buzzing caught her ear, and I-C suddenly appeared besides her, bobbing in the air erratically.

"No, don't refuse." He said urgently. "It would be considered an insult to refuse him. Just go a few rounds. All right?"

"Easy for you to say." Scout mumbled as I-C nudged her towards the circle. "You don't have to go toe to toe with an alien that can fight wookies."

"They're not even that strong." I-C assured her. "Just very, very fast."

Scout nervously stepped into the ring, watching the shorter chieftain Kilmaulsi step in with a smooth and graceful gait. He removed his armor, wearing only a simple, but elegant cloth that allowed him greater movement.

"He's making it even." I-C explained. "You don't have armor on, so neither will he. Also, hand to hand only. No lightsabers or knives. You go at it till one of you surrenders." Scout nodded to herself, taking a deep breath, and dropping into the Broken Gate Stance of combat. Her style relied on a more defensive stance, where the enemy came to her and she could counter him with grapples and carefully placed strikes at their pressure points.

"_I'll have to get a hold of one of his limbs."_ Scout thought grimly. _"Once I get in close, I can force a quick end." _Scout took a step to the right, her arms raised in a fighting stance, trying to observe his movement. The Kilmaulsi stood there, not moving an inch. He watched her intently with its sharp black eyes. Then, the warrior raised both his hands, holding one arm extended towards Scout, palm open, and the other back towards his face, ready to strike.

Then, he moved, and Scout was left looking at empty space. Only a sudden warning from the Force saved her from a blow to her head that could have stunned a rancor. Ducking swiftly, she leapt to the side as a foot talon followed, nearly connecting with her stomach. Scout rolled, landing in a crouched position. Gathering herself, she leapt, powering herself forward with as much strength as her legs could muster.

"_Got him now_." She thought, cocking her arm back for a punch. However, the Kilmaulsi turned his body, twisting, and with just his open palm, turned Scout's hammer blow to the side. Scout, still sailing through the air, was unable to turn in time before one of his feathered palms lashed out, hitting her in the side. She flew several feet, landing hard with a grunt just inside the circle.

"_He's fast."_ She thought, struggling to one knee. _"And strong. But if he's so powerful, why am I still standing. The way he's countered my attacks up till now…This fight shouldn't have lasted two minutes. Unless…"_

Scout grinned to herself, and leapt to her feet, despite the stabbing pain in her side. Judging by the intent looks she was getting from spectators, this was more than a friendly sparring match. This was a way for them to decide whether their allies will hold their own in battle. It was, for lack of a better word, a test, one on which the fate of their alliance could depend on.

"_I've at least got to impress them."_ She thought, holding her side with one hand. _"But something is wrong with my ribs. Broken I think. I'll have to use speed to catch him off guard, and get in close enough to grapple."_ With a sudden burst of energy, Scout threw herself forward and launched a flurry of strikes and hammer blows at her opponent. But everything she did was countered, guided to the side by the Kilmaulsi's almost gentle palms. Scout, turning and falling past her opponent from the force of her own right hook, seemed to trip and fall head first to the floor.

Instead of hitting the floor, Scout reached out with both hands, firmly planting them on the ground, and used her arms to turn herself in a twisting fashion. As she did so, she used the force of her turn to aim a powerful kick at the Kilmaulsi. The crowd made a noise Scout assumed was gasping, as the warrior raised both his hands to catch her strike, barely stopping it inches from his face. Scout grinned.

Twisting again, she brought her other leg up, this time aiming at his exposed stomach. With a squawk of irritation, he dropped her other leg and leapt backwards, barely avoiding her counter attack. Scout, now lying on the ground, rolled to her feet and spun just in time to see the Kilmaulsi streaking towards her, arms launching a complicated series of strikes at her. Giving ground slowly, Scout brought her arms in close, and dropped into the most complicated series of strikes, blocks, and counterstrikes she'd ever done. Only her sharp eyes and the subtle nudging she received through the Force kept his arms at bay.

After deflecting a series of particularly fierce strikes with her arms, Scout lunged, trying to grab hold of her opponents arm. She succeeded, and began applying careful pressure to the joint of the warriors elbow. Then, a blur, and Scout felt herself flying backwards. She barely got to her feet before the Kilmaulsi was on her, launching into a series of palm strikes that forced her back, again testing the limits of her reflexes and Force Precognition.

Finally, he feinted a strike at her wounded side, causing her to desperately throw up defenses one her left to protect. Of course, this left her right open, which is just where a feathered palm shot forward to knock her over the head. Scout staggered and tried to raise her defenses, but the Kilmaulsi was unloading now. His arms were blurs, hitting every soft point on her body until Scout felt a powerful strike at her chest throw her backwards. She hit the dirt, barely conscious and promising to dismantle that little floating menace, I-C.

* * *

Jenna awoke to the sound of a distant humming that she guessed was a hyperdrive powering through space. Her first thought was that she was dead, but she soon dismissed that thought. She felt stun cuffs holding her hands behind her back, and she could think of no reason for them to cuff a dead person. Beyond that though, she could see nothing in her dark surroundings. Then, a rustling in the dark. Wiggling to her feet, Jenna squinted trying to see through the dark.

"Yes?" She asked, more curious then scared.

"Jenna?" A voice called weakly, pleadingly. "Is that you?"

"Jasper!" She exclaimed, trying to move on her knees towards her young charge. "Are you all right?" The young boy snorted and Jenna heard him grunt as he tried to push himself to his feet.

"Not great, but these men are so nice, they make up for the poor sleeping conditions."

Jenna sighed. At least his talent for sarcasm was still with him.

"Where are we?" She asked, looking around. As far as she could see, they were trapped in a dark room. "Where are the rest of the kids?"

"In the hold of the mercenaries' ship." Jasper answered. "They brought you in here a little before we took off. They said they left me in here to keep you calm when you woke up." Jenna's heart sank.

"So the rest of them aren't in here?"

"No, but they're all right." Jasper said. "Don't worry. I've kept the mercs hands off them."

"Then why are you in this state." Jenna said, trying to see through the darkness at what would make poor Jasper sound so weak.

"The twins got bored." He said. "Evidently, they enjoy taking out frustration through some old fashion beatings."

"My god!" Jenna said as she finally managed to glimpse his face in the dark. It was dark and his head seemed to swell well past its normal size. "Jasper…I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry." He said consolingly. "It's not as bad as it looks. Besides, now that you're here, I'm sure we'll come up with a way out of here in no time."

Jenna was quiet. She hadn't actually given a lot of thought as to how to escape. At the moment, the men with the guns held all the card. There was nothing she could do without risking the children.

"You do have a plan, don't you?"

Jenna sighed. Jasper's voce was so hopeful, a hope born of years living with her. The hope of a son to one's mother.

"Sure." She lied cheerfully. "Don't worry. I'll do whatever it takes to get us out of this."

"_Whatever it takes."_ She thought grimly.

**_Please review. I want to know whether people like where this is going. Oh, also, I changed jenna's hair color. Just FYI_**


	38. Chapter 38 Order 89

**_Okay, this flashback started as just one sentence, then grew to a paragraph, and is now pretty much two whole chapters. The rest will be completed soon. I wanted to add some reason behind C-41's attitude and actions, and the best way I know how is to have some more flashbacks._**

Gerik was not an extraordinarily good pilot, but he certainly had enough skill to fly their bucket freighter to Melida/Daan, the place where the datapads signal had originated from. It would still take a week or two to make it there. After all, it was all the way across the galaxy, and you couldn't just fly in a straight line.

"Think the girl will still help us?" C-41 said rather abruptly from the copilot seat. Gerik looked at him, bewildered by his left field comment.

"Once she sees what the twins did to that boy, she'll listen well enough. Maternal instinct and all that."

"Yeah," C-41 said nodding slowly. "But I don't like the idea of inserting someone we can't fully trust into the field. What if she betrays us?"

Gerik laughed and smoothly drew one of his knuckle duster knives from his belt, fitting his fingers into the fist area beneath the blade.

"She won't." He said flatly. "She knows what will happen if she does."

C-41 nodded, though the idea left a bad taste in his mouth. He'd always been very idealistic for a clone. Not that he didn't understand the idea of collateral damage, but he could never understand pointless killing. Especially when it came to children.

"_Just like on Cerali."_ C-41 thought grimly. "_Won't make the same mistake I made there."_

* * *

_Two or three years ago, during the opening battles of the Clone Wars_

* * *

In the early days of the war, the Republic was fighting a seemingly hopeless fight. There were just too many droids and too few battalions of clones. These few battalions were deployed only in places where they were absolutely necessary, like the forest world of Cerali.

The Cerali were a mixed bag politically. Some were pro republic, others die hard separatists. However, the planet also had some of the world's richest cortosis alloy and ore depots. This rare metal was highly valued by the Separatists, mostly due to its ability to block and even deactivate lightsabers. The metal in its pure form was noted for its natural charge, which could be used to overload the beam of a lightsaber, instantly deactivating it. Unfortunately, pure cortosis was also very brittle. It needed to be mixed with more durable metals to be wholly effective in combat. This took away its lightsaber deactivating properties, but any blade made of this mix would still be highly resistant to lightsabers.

Either form of the metal would cause the Republic problems. Several issues had already arisen with some Jedi encountering Cortosis metal Droids. Deeming the planets that held Cortosis high priority, the Jedi Council had begun deploying commandos and battalions to defend them from Separatist incursions. C-41's battalion was one such group.

Deployed with the rest of the 2nd Legion, C-41 and the rest of the 35th battalion clung for dear life as their LAAT gunships dipped into the atmosphere. Part of the advance force, along with the 46th battalion, the 35th had orders to set up camp at Fort Spreeno, an important spaceport for commerce with the locals. It was also where the majority of cortosis was being smuggled off planet and into the hands of the Separatists. By shutting down these operations, the fleet's commander, Captain Gilad Pellaeon, hoped to draw the Confederacy into a battle on this planet. This was why the 35th was being sent down early, to prepare defenses at key points on the planet.

As the 35th finally made ground contact, C-41 quickly gave orders to his men, telling them to begin cutting down trees and preparing landing zones for the various LAAT's that would carry heavy weapons and supplies down. As C-41 surveyed his command, he couldn't seem to shake an uneasy feeling about this whole mission.

"Hope the Separatists come at us soon." U-30 said from behind him. "This heats killing me."

"Better it than droids." C-41 said, "Man, will they ever get us armor that's not so bulky. That would help the heat at least."

"Unlikely." U-30 said, lifting a pack of supplies onto his shoulder. "The way the wars going, we won't have to worry about armor in a few years. We'll all be dead." Turning, he walked back towards the troops, yelling a string of rather creative curse words to get them motivated.

* * *

"Okay," U-30 raged from the rear of the LAAT. "I know the manual says to be patient when preparing an ambush, but this is ridiculous."

"Calm down buddy." C-41 said, though he silently agreed. "The Separatists need this ore. They need to come in and push us out." U-30 nodded, but was clearly not convinced.

The Republic Forces had been set up on this Force forsaken planet for a month now, and no Seps had even moved close to the system. Naturally, the clones had been busy, setting up fire bases on the hills jutting out from the ocean of forest. These fire bases had artillery and LAATs on them, which would be used to cover patrols of clones that constantly walked through the forest. The idea was to be able to quickly react to any Separatist incursion and crush it at the landing point. Of course, this strategy relied on the Seps showing up. Until then, the clones simply made endless patrols into the woods, searching for smugglers and illegal mining operations.

On this particular patrol, U-30 seemed to have decided against his usual stoicism, and instead seemed intent on complaining about everything from the sun, to the lack of Separatists trying to kill him.

"Yeah," U-30 said mockingly, "But we should be out there, blasting tinnies and taking down the Sep strongholds, not waiting here for a couple of smugglers trying to skim a profit. Plus, these patrols are pointless."

C-41 stayed quiet. U-30 was right about one thing; the patrols deep into the woods were about as useless as it got. Technically, they were supposed to be looking for local smugglers trying to scrape a living of mining cortosis and selling it to the Seps. In reality though, it was just a show for the local villages, something to remind them that the Republic was there, and watching. Not that they were at all hostile.

In fact, the locals were about the most welcoming group of people C-41 had ever seen. Every time he and a patrol walked through a village, they were bombarded with everything from food to the local shells and carved rocks they used as money. And none of them were even able to afford mining equipment; they were all farmers scrapping a living off the wet and humid terrain.

"We just do our job U-30." C-41 muttered quietly as they came to a village made of scattered huts composed of a local wood. "Besides, I don't mind the patrols too much. These guys are so generous. I don't see why the 46th seems to think they're all Separatists."

U-30 grunted, but nodded his head in agreement, accepting a basket of grains from a little kid of five of six. The kid smiled, bowed and ran off to his nearby parents, pointing at U-30 as he went. The 46th battalion, under the command of Commander C-56, also known as Lapan, had supposedly had a very different experience. They reported finding weapon caches in the huts of the locals, and said that their sector, a couple klicks to the east of the 35ths camp, was filled with anti-republic sentiment. Of course, C-41 had searched his own sector, including this village, and found nothing.

C-41 was being bombarded on all sides, clasping hands and waving away offers of meats skewered on spits and toys made from local fibers.

The tiny faces looking up at him, with their slanted eyes, tan skin, and grinning white teeth, were alight with joy at seeing the strange white robot walking through their village. They pulled at his armor, just trying to feel the strange material. One of them, a little girl, maybe eight or nine with long black hair tied back in a ponytail, seemed fascinated with his helmet, and kept trying to reach up to grab it.

"_Well,"_ C-41 thought, _"Regulations say to maintain cordial relations with the natives."_

Carefully, C-41 picked up the little girl, letting her finally get a hold of his helmet. She took it off with a sharp jerk, and gasped in surprise. The children below soon followed her example, gasping and taking steps backwards. Then, they laughed in delight, and redoubled their attempts to lead him through the village.

"Uh, boss." U-30 said behind him, "We've got some work we have to do, remember?"

"Oh," C-41 said, placing the little girl back on the ground. "Right." Turning, he shouldered his rifle, and walked out of the village, waving as he left.

"Aww." U-30 exclaimed mockingly, "Looks like you've got a little stalker."

C-41 turned and saw the little girl following them, trying to remain hidden behind the trees and foliage.

"Go on!" He said, trying to add some steel into his voice. "Shoo! Get!"

"Don't think they speak basic." U-30 said holding back a laugh.

The little girl smiled at him, and ran back into the village, waving as she did. C-41 turned back to U-30, who was standing with his arms crossed, his head tilted slightly.

"Don't- Say-A Word." C-41 said before his friend could open with a smart remark.

"As you wish…Commander Nanny." U-30 snickered behind his helmet, and ducked the elbow C-41 aimed at his head.

* * *

The next day was just as boring as all the others. And the next. And the next. Two weeks later, U-30 wasn't the only one getting anxious. The entire 35th seemed to be going of their rockers. Even training had been far more exciting than this. To help alleviate the tension, C-41 had canceled ground patrols, and had the troopers take out the LAATs for rapid deployment maneuvers.

"Hopefully," He yelled over the roar of engines from the main compartment of his own LAAT gunship, "A little live fire exercise will help liven us up. So, we're splitting into squads and doing rapid deployment exercises. Each squad is going to take the day, and set up a camp under imaginary under fire conditions." The squad he'd chosen for his exercise, including U-30, nodded beneath their helmets, was mostly made up of his old friends from training on Kamino. There had been plenty to choose from, and he hoped to keep it that way.

* * *

At the end of the day, C-41 couldn't help but be proud of his men. Eight times, his squad had made their drops, rappelling down on ropes and quickly setting up a perimeter in record time. All the other squads in the 35th had met with the same success. No injuries, no falls, no problems. As the LAAT gunship flew through the night, C-41 looked around at his squad. They were good men. All of them. Brothers. Then…

"Commander," their pilot, a clone named Hopper radioed from the front. "We've got a problem. Look out to the left at twenty degrees." C-41 obliged, leaning out of the open door of the gunship. He gasped, or rather grunted in suprise.

Rising out of the forest was a billowing cloud of smoke, sprinkled with sharp biting flames at the fire's base, C-41 saw the village they'd visited earlier that day silhouetted against the flames.

"Get us down there now!" C-41 said, taking a grappling hook from his belt and attaching it to the rappelling device on the end of his rifle. "I want a low fly over to access the situation, followed by quick insertion. You copy?"

"I copy commander." The LAAT dipped down, belly inches from the tree tops. As they quickly closed on the flames, C-41's heart turned to ice.

There, in the village, was a large company of clones. But they weren't helping the fires. No, they were starting them. Everywhere C-41 looked, he saw clone troopers pulling people out of their homes and dragging them to open areas where they were executed. Fleeing civilians, men women, and children, were cut down as they ran screaming from the flames. There was no raping, no looting, just cold, efficient, quiet killing. Just outside the village, a line of the locals was pushed into the irrigation ditch, and a heavy repeating blaster opened up on them, tearing into the crowds.

In the center of the village, a pair of hovertanks were firing on huts and turning them to kindeling with well placed incendiary missiles. The villagers ran screaming from the flames, their facial features charred and melted.

"Take us down now!" C-41 yelled.

"What the hell is going on!?" U-30 screamed over the roaring engine. "It's a blood bath down there. What are those clones doing?"

"Their insignias indicate they're from the 46th." Hopper radioed from the front. "I'm trying to get a connection from command, but there's too much interference. I'll have to move out of range to get a comlink signal."

"Keep trying." C-41 yelled back. "Try and raise command. We'll need more support here."

Behind him, C-41 could here U-30 struggling with the E-Web repeating blaster, setting it up in the compartment on its tripod. Looking down at the ditch, C-41 saw a young boy struggling to get out of the ditch, his little arms trying to swim through a sea of bodies. Cursing, C-41 activated the rappelling rope at his belt and stepped out of the gunship, firing as he fell.

He aimed carefully, only hitting the legs of a few nearby clones that were aiming at the boy. Before his feet even hit the ground, he detached the cable from his belt, landing in a crouched position. Hurrying forward, his rifle waving back and forth in front of him, he ran to the little boy, grabbing his arm and pulling him from the pile of bodies. The little guy was crying profusely, and was desperately trying to push C-41 away. He ignored the boy's screams of fear and anger and turned, running back to the gunship that had landed behind him.

"Get the squad set up around here." He said to U-30. "I'm gonna go figure out what the hell's going on here. There are still people alive in that ditch. Start evacing them!"

"We don't have enough room on the gunship for us and them." U-30 protested, but C-41 cut him off.

"Just do it. And if any of these bastards tries to shoot them or you, take'em down with the E-Web. We'll evac later."

"Yes sir." U-30 said, already turning and screaming orders at his bewildered squad. C-41 turned, running into the burning village. The flames were hot, but C-41's armor protected him from most of it. The Civilians were not so lucky. Many were now fully ablaze, running blindly from the village, only to be torn to bits by the fire from Clone trooper's rifles.

"Hold your fire!" He yelled to a squad of clones about to throw a grenade into a small hut filled with people. They paused, seeing a clone that vastly outranked them. Then, they turned and threw their grenades, and the hut exploded, taking the people inside with it. C-41 saw their shadows against the flames, writhing in pain.

"Hey," He roared at the clones, grabbing their sergeant's shoulder and roughly turning him around. "I gave you an order!" The clones turned to him calmly.

"Sir, we have outstanding orders from commander Lapan to remove all Separatist insurrectionists from this village."

"Like hell you will!" C-41 roared back. "Sergeant, you take you and your men and start telling all clones in this area to stand down."

"Sorry sir." The sergeant leading them said, tapping his helmet. "We've just received orders that all non 46th battalion soldiers are to be arrested. Sorry." He said, raising his blaster rifle. C-41 reacted quickly, throwing himself to the side and taking cover behind a hut just before a storm of blue blaster fire tore apart the ground he'd been standing on. Taking his blaster, he fired at the huts wall, burning a hole through it, and stepped inside. It was empty, except for furniture and the body of an elderly man who had clearly been executed.

Disgusted, C-41 moved as quickly as he could out of the room, trying to elude his pursuers. As he rounded another corner of the village, and was shocked to see the little girl from the day before standing in the middle of the street, being roughly herded forward by a pair of clones. C-41, suddenly filled with desperate energy, sprinted towards her.

"_I don't even know her name_." He thought desperately. Raising his rifle, he tried to fire, but his field of vision was suddenly blocked by a TX-130 hover tank. The tank turned, trying to bring it's forward facing turrets to bear on C-41, but he jumped, landing heavily on its front and clinging for dear life. The clone commanding the tank, located on top, tried to turn the beam turret at his post at him. C-41, still holding on for dear life, dropped his rifle and drew his pistol from his belt, firing a single shot through the clones black visor.

Pulling himself up, he climbed up the tanks sloping front, even as it spun and bucked, trying to shake him off. Reaching the open hatch, C-41 grabbed a thermal detonator from the dead clone's belt and activated it, but was surprised when a armored fist rose from the tank and struck him in his neck. He fell back wards, gasping for breath, but still clutching the grenade in his hand.

"_Fifteen seconds."_ He thought, blearily getting to his feet. The other clone had hauled himself out and drew his pistol. C-41 rose from his bent over position, spinning his body and lashing out with his left arm. The shot went wild as he backhanded the pistol and sent it spinning into a burning hut, but not before the shot sizzled through his shoulder armor. The clone lunged forward, throwing a kick at C-41's waist, but he caught it with his left hand and stepped forward, ramming his helmet into the clone once, twice, three times. He fell backwards, and C-41 used that momentary distraction.

"_Five seconds_." He thought desperately, and dropped the grenade into the hatch. With a shout, he jumped, hitting the ground with a grunt and a roll. Before he could get to his feet, the tank exploded, sending C-41 flying into and through the wall of a hut.

Rubbing his head, C-41 got to his feet, searching the ruined street for his rifle. He found it, checked it for damage, and hurried down the street once more, eyes flashing for clones as he did. Most of them ignored him, too busy ferreting out the remaining children and civilians from their homes. Finally, towards the outside of the village, C-41 saw the girl, standing with a few of her fellow villagers. They were in a line, standing before a ditch. Behind each of them, a clone trooper stood, rifles not aimed, but ready. Behind them, his arm raised like a guillotine, was Commander Lapan.

"Commander!" C-41 exclaimed angrily. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" The clone commander turned, surprised.

"Commander C-41." Lapan said inclining his head. "You really need to pick a nickname. Those numbers do you no justice. I like the nickname Tank Buster for you."

"What is the meaning of this commander?" C-41 shouted angrily. "We have no orders to attack, particularly innocent villages."

"Innocent villages?" Lapan said, spreading his arms as if in protest. "These people are supporters of the Separatists. They have stored weapons in preparation for-"

"That's a lie!" C-41 said, socking the commander in the stomach. "I've personally searched this village. There was no stockpile of weapons. Besides, we received no orders to attack."

"The Command code is explicit." Lapan said mechanically as he got to his feet. "All enemies of the Republic are to be removed. This village and its people were one such enemy. Now," He said, reaching out with a hand to grab C-41's throat. "Get out of my way." With a powerful shove, he threw C-41 to the side, where he landed a couple meters away from the prisoners. He winced as he landed on his mauled shoulder, looked up, and watched as Laplan raised his arm, prepared to give the order.

* * *

"So, that's the situation Captain." The hologram of Hoppers said. "I'm returning now to try and pick up the commander. I will report back when I have them."

"Hurry trooper." Pellaeon said from his command bridge. "You won't have long."

"Understood captain." Hopper said, cutting the connection.

"Captain!" Another voice said behind him. "We have visual confirmation of a firefight. And the 46th base is confirmed as being abandoned." Pellaeon sighed. He was afraid of this.

"All right," he yelled with authority, "get the second in command of the 35th on the com. Tell him to scramble his gunships and get them over to that village. They have ten minutes to evacuate the village after contact." The bridge looked at him, waiting on his every word. It was like the whole galaxy had taken a deep breath, and was holding it.

"Then, we execute Order 89!"

**_Part two comes soon. I need a drink... Thank God for lax Mexico drinking laws!_**


	39. Chapter 39 Beneath the Helmet

**_All right. This is the last part of the flash back. Enjoy!_**

Hopper brought his LAAT in as close as he could to where the clone squad he'd left behind was set up. They'd created a tight perimeter, and as far as Hopper could tell, were all alive and fighting. However, he was distressed to see about fifteen or twenty people were also gathered inside the perimeter, well over the load limit he could carry. As the LAAT settled, the civilians clambered to get on, and Hopper, cursing, jumped from the cockpit.

"Get back!" He yelled, aiming his drawn blaster at the civilians. "Go on! Step away from the gunship." The villagers backed away slowly, eyes darting nervously.

"What are you doing?" Hopper yelled at U-30. "We don't have room for all these guys!"

"I know." He yelled back. "But they just keep gathering over here. Evidently, they want to get out of here. Can't say I blame them."

"Well, we can't get them all out, even if we did leave your squad behind, and there's no way we're doing that."

"Fine." U-30 said in an exasperated voice. "I'll get C-41."

"You mean he hasn't come back yet!" Hopper said. "Brother, we do not have time for this. Get your squad and strap in."

U-30 was about to just give in and call it quits, when the sound of blaster fire suddenly jerked his mind back into the present. A squad of the 46th troopers had begun firing on him and his squad. Flashes of blue light lanced out, throwing dirt and dust off of his squads hastily erected fortifications.

"Keep the civilians heads down." He ordered the pilot. "We'll sit tight for a bit and wait for reinforcements. Did you tell Captain Pellaeon?"

"Yeah, and his orders were to get out of here as soon as possible." Hopper protested. "We need to go, soon."

"I know." U-30 said in an annoyed voice. U-30 looked up, eyes searching for some form of salvation. Then, as if the sky had heard his thoughts, a flight of LAATs shot over the treetops. They had a red teardrop insignia painted on their side, and a second later, troopers from the 35th were jumping and rappelling down ropes like acrobats.

"Good to see you." U-30 said to C-54, C-41's second in command, who had led the troopers there as soon as possible.

"Yeah," C-54 said, "But I would like to know what the hell's going on here. Pellaeon made it clear we are to evac immediately with as many of the civilians as possible."

"What about troopers from the 46th?" U-30 asked, waving at a pair of prisoners he and his men had captured and cuffed.

"Them too I suppose, but make the civilians priority."

U-30 nodded, and snapped orders to his troopers. They set about loading their prisoners while the rest of the 35th spread out, grabbing civilians still trapped in the flames and dragging them out onto the LAATs. Several clones of the 46th attempted to stop them and were dispatched quickly, either killed or captured. U-30 reasoned that the civilians who had already escaped into the woods would be fine. After all, this was their planet, and the clones of the 46th weren't chasing them into the woods, just keeping the perimeter around the village.

"Sir!" U-30 heard a clone say to C-54, "We've searched most of the village, but we don't have any more time. There are still squads of the 46th dug in there, and we'd take casualties pushing them out. Captain Pellaeon made it clear to be out of here in fifteen, and we only have three minutes left before our time runs out."

"All right." C-54 nodded. "Load up. I only brought part of the 35th, so we should still have room on the LAATs. Let's move."

"What about commander C-41?" U-30 said, grabbing C-54's shoulder and shaking. "What about him?"

"He's probably already onboard or dead. Either way, we have to go now."

U-30 watched as the clones grabbed their wounded and prisoners, and started piling onto the gunships. He knew it was pointless to argue. Orders are orders. But looking back, he saw flashes of blue blaster fire, and knew C-41 wasn't dead yet.

* * *

C-41 watched, horrified, as Lapan raised his arm. Time seemed to slow as he looked at the line of clones. His angle gave him a shot at each of the clones, but there was no way he could take them all down in time. It was a hopeless shot, especially with his left shoulder burned from a blaster shot.

Then, C-41 was struck by sudden inspiration. Using his right arm he raised his blaster rifle, trying to keep it steady with one hand. Then, he activated the rappelling cable launcher and fired. The line of cable shot out, hitting the thigh of the clone farthest away, on the far end of the firing squad line. Reaching up with his wounded hand, C-41 hit the retract button.

The clone he'd hit, realizing what was happening, tried to jump away, but couldn't. As the cable snapped back with enough force to pull a clone up a vertical wall, C-41 braced himself, making sure he wasn't the one being pulled. The clone legs shot out from under him, and he slid towards C-41, knocking the other clones legs out from under them. They fell to the ground like bowling pins, their shots going off in every direction, but missing their prisoners.

As his captured clone got closer, C-41 fired a pointblank shot from his rifle hitting the oncoming clone in the stomach. When the clone was close enough, C-41 detached his cable and pulled the clone up, using him as a shield from Lapan, who had drawn his blaster pistol and fired at him. The bolts struck the wounded clone, killing him. C-41 drew the clone's pistol from its holster and fired at the execution squad, wounding two and killing another before they could get to their feet. The other two managed to turn their rifles on him and fired.

Pushing the clone away, C-41 rolled under a hail of blaster, coming up with his pistol blazing at the other two while his rifle was firing wildly in his other hand at Lapan. The commander dove away, taking cover behind a hut. The other two soon were wounded, their chest armor crumpled under the heat of blaster bolts from his pistol. Turning to the refugees, C-41 dropped his rifle and tried to show them he was a friend.

"It's all right." He said, palms raised in front of him. "I'm here to help you." The natives all looked at him, clearly scared, but understanding they weren't under any immediate threat. The little girl was looking at him from behind one of the villagers' legs, eyes wide.

Off on the other side of the village, C-41 saw several LAATs beginning to take off, carrying clones and refugees alike. They didn't have much time.

"Come on." C-41 said, holding a hand out. "Come here." She wasn't coming.

C-41 was about to move towards her when he felt himself fly forward, a numbing sensation crawling up his left side. He spun, landing on his back, and saw Lapan pushing his way through a burning hut. Ash and cinders fell around him, and the flames behind him silhouetted his body.

"Stop right there." He said, calmly firing his pistol. Another bolt struck him in the stomach, but the majority of it was absorbed by the armor.

"_Not dead."_ He thought as he rolled over gasping. "Just got the wind knocked out of me." He looked up and saw the villagers running away as fast as they could into the dark woods. All except for the little girl. C-41 got up, and waved at her, screaming at her.

"Go on! Run!"

She didn't though, and as C-41 began pushing himself up again, he felt a hammer blow hit his helmet and send it spinning off his head. It bounced once, then settled a few feet from him.

"You really shouldn't have betrayed the Grand Army, C-41." Lapan said, walking past him. "Surely you realize that these people were a threat to our hold on this planet."

"Even this girl." C-41 said, struggling to one knee. "Are you out of your mind?"

He tried to stand up, to lunge forward and tackle Lapan, but he'd already stepped away, holding the girl in his arms. She squirmed and cried, kicking at Lapan. Then, she stopped, and looked at C-41. She broke into a smile, and C-41 realized why. He had his helmet off. She'd recognized him. Lapan looked at her, then at C-41, then back again. He laughed.

"Oh, she thinks you're different, doesn't she. She recognizes you."

C-41 didn't answer; he just glared angrily at the commander, trying to think of some way to turn his mangled body into a weapon. His left side was rapidly becoming numb, as was his right shoulder, and the gaping hole in his stomach armor was cutting into his skin with its jagged sides. He could barely move, let alone fight.

"Well," Lapan said, not smiling or showing any emotion at all. "I hate it when people die with delusions like that." Holding the girl in one hand, he reached up to his helmet and pulled it off. The little girl looked at him, gaping, and then looked back at C-41. She was confused. Here were two men, one trying to save her, one who had killed her family. Both of them looked like her friend from the other day. And they were both the same. She began to cry, and all C-41 wanted to do was stop her. He couldn't stand it.

Off in the distance, the last LAAT took off, taking his hope of escaping with it. Drawing his pistol, with his right hand, he aimed it at Lapan.

"She dies, you die." He said in a guttural voice.

"We all die eventually." Lapan said, raising his blaster. "I'm just speeding up the process for Separatists and traitors like you."

"I'm no traitor." C-41 said, feeling his pride being aroused. "No clone would waste ammo and time on this job without orders. It's inefficient and wrong. You're the traitor."

This gave Lapan pause. In that moment of distraction, C-41 found enough strength in his legs to spring forward, throwing his body through the air to tackle Lapan. He tried to turn his blaster on him, but missed, only grazing the armor on his back. The girl flew away, but C-41 couldn't think about her right now. Training kicked in, and every fiver of C-41's being obeyed it.

They rolled on the ground. Lapan was stronger and uninjured, but all C-41 had to do was hold him here long enough for the girl to escape. But as they punched and kicked, pummeling each other with precise jabs and grabs, C-41 saw the girl there, looking stunned.

"_Shock."_ C-41 thought grimly. Then, all his thoughts were obliterated as Lapan jammed his fist into C-41's wounded side, twisting. He howled and kicked up with his good leg, sending Lapan sprawling. Breathing hard, C-41 looked up and was surprised to see a flight of PTB-625 bombers flying low over the horizon.

"_They're gonna bomb the village."_ C-41 thought. "_Take out the rouges in one swoop. Order 89."_

Suddenly, desperation welled up inside him and C-41 thought he could move mountains with his energy. Sweating and bleeding, C-41 stood up, tearing his chest and arm armor off. He limped over to where he'd dropped his rifle and picked it up with his good arm. Hearing Lapan charging at him from behind, he spun like a dancer, and used the rifle as a club, bashing him across the face, sending him sprawling.

As the bombers continued their approach, C-41 squinted at the horizon, searching. Then, he saw it. There, shooting forward just ahead of the bombers, was Hopper's gunship. It looked scarred and beaten from its ordeals, but it looked so beautiful to C-41 that day, he almost cried. He looked around, searching for the girl, and quickly found her, hiding in fear behind an upturned piece of furniture.

"Come here." He said, holding out a hand. "We've got to hurry." But the girl didn't budge. She was terrified.

"_She thinks I'm Lapan."_ He thought, and anger welled inside him. The LAAT was fast approaching. To have come this far and let the girl die was not an option. So, he did the one thing that seemed sensible to him at the time. Grabbing her by the arm, he put her in one of his wrist locks, snapping bone, making sure she couldn't get away, and dragged her out from the furniture. As they tumbled into the clearing, he bundled her up the best he could with his left arm, making sure he had a tight hold on his struggling package.

Then, attaching the cable launcher in the rifle to his belt, he fired it, launching it in an arc towards the oncoming gunship. It attached firmly, and a second later, C-41 felt his feet jerked off the ground and a he soon was watching the ground fade away. There were still clones from the 46th in the village, and as the bombers continued their run, C-41 saw the remnants obliterated.

* * *

Once the LAAT had leveled out, C-41 shouted for the clones inside to haul him up. They obliged, though when C-41 saw who was pulling him up, he groaned loudly.

"Remind me to never let me babysit my kids." U-30 said with a sardonic grin on his unhelmeted face.

"Shut up and pull." C-41 groaned. "And get some bacta ready. My left side hurts like a-"

"Hey," Hopper yelled from the front of the cockpit. "No swearing in the gunship. Especially in front of the kid." U-30 laughed, but his face fell when he saw how shot up his friend was.

"Crazy bastards." He muttered as he applied bacta to his commander. "What were they thinking?"

"That's what I'd like to know." C-41 agreed through gritted teeth. "Can you raise Captain Pellaeon?"

"Already done." U-30 said from the front. "I'm to drop you guys off at the _Griffin_ for debrief. Hold on!"

Yanking his joystick back, Hopper sent the gunship into a sharp rise, giving the clones a brief glimpse of the village. The bombers had unleashed their load of proton bombs. Now a torrent of flame was rising from the village, spreading and engulfing the fringes of the jungle.

* * *

"So," Captain Pellaeon said before the collection of clones and deck officers in front of him. "Has the 46th been dealt with?"

"Yes sir."C-54 said, taking a step forward. "My troopers went through the remains of the village. All clone armor has been accounted for. Most of the bodies had been disintegrated by the heat, but it's unlikely that any sizable number escaped."

"Very well." Captain Pellaeon said, sighing deeply. "As for you C-41…"

C-41 stood at attention, ready to be either reprimanded or praised. He had engaged fellow clone troopers without order from high command. Logically, such actions could not be tolerated. Independence left weaknesses in the ranks. Still, the army was funny like that. You could be executed or promoted for independence.

"I'm recommending you for a new program being set up on Kamino. Certain Clone Commanders who have shown promise are being recruited for Advance Reconnaissance Commando training. You'll leave C-54 in command and return when you finish, retaking command and passing on your skills to the 35th. Do you except?"

C-41 waited for a moment, thinking it over. But clones are not trained to be indecisive. Any chance to help his men be better prepared to survive, he would take.

"Yes sir!" He said, snapping off a salute. Pellaeon nodded and looked at his clones, dismissing them before turning to talk with his officers.

* * *

"Inform Chancellor Palpatine that we were forced to execute Order 89. Tell him that the situation is under control, but that I recommend an increased watch on all clone commands, in case of more clones going rouge." The officer nodded, and looked thoughtful.

"Order 89, the destruction and disposal of clone units when they present a danger to Republic security." The officer recited, as though reading from a manual. "Hard to believe it would come to that. I thought all clones were the same."

"We're all shaped by our experiences." Pellaeon said, looking at the clones retreating backs. "I suppose something must have happened that caused C-56 to turn so violent, but perhaps it is one of the mysteries of war that we'd do better to not pursue."

"And the refugees?"

"Have them separated into family units and scattered. It pains me to do it, but we cannot send them back and we can't have a large community of people causing an uproar over this. Republic reputation would never recover."

"And those without families."

"I leave their fate to you. I trust you can find a good home for them. A place where they'll be taken care of."

"Yes Sir." The officer said, and turned about, going to fulfill his tasks. Pellaeon turned back, looking at the stars through the viewport of his command bridge. His mission was already a failure. That much was clear. Still, what disturbed him more was the actions of the 46th. If clones who were trained to be fanatically loyal could act like that…What else were they capable of?

* * *

C-41 shouldered his pack, shaking the hand of C-54.

"I'll take good care of them sir." He said, smiling beneath his helmet. "When you come back, we'll be ready."

"Thanks trooper." C-41 said gratefully. Turning to U-30, he held out his hand. With an exaggerated groan, he took it.

"Figures," U-30 said with a comical frown of annoyance. "I do all the work, you get the promotion."

"I'm sure you'll be next old friend." Waving good bye, C-41 moved towards the transport, walking up the ramp. As he got to the top, he was shocked to find several refugees from the village, waiting for takeoff.

Among them was the little girl. She looked at him, but instead of smiling this time took a step back in fear. C-41 saw her wrist was wrapped in cloth, broken from when he'd hauled her onto the gunship. How, looking at him, confusion and here flashed across her face, as though she wasn't sure what to think.

"_She's alone now."_ He thought, shuddering. That was one of the things he thought clones feared most. Growing up, constantly in the company of each other, the clones were a tight nit group. Except the ARC's, but they were crazy by all accounts.

At that moment, C-41 realized that that little girl would never look at any clone the same way again. Unlike normal people, they all looked alike, so every time she saw one, she would only see C-56 slaughtering her village. Somehow, that made C-41's gut churn.

"_Hmmm,"_ C-41 mused silently, as he continued on his way. _"When all soldiers look alike, how do you tell the good from the bad?"_

_**Read and Review. I'm almost tempted to post this as a seperate story, but this will work for now. THANKS AGAIN!**_


	40. Chapter 40 A Long Way to Go

**_Sorry of this feels scattered. I'm trying to weave so many story lines into one, that I'm worried some people may be confused. Anyways, I'm just going to summarize where we are._**

**_1. It's about 1 or two months after Order 66. Sorry if that seems unbelievable, but whatever._**

**_2. Sonya and Scout are in the Vorzyd V system, rallying allies. It's in the Outer Rim, where the Empire's sphere of influence hasn't spread._**

**_'s learning from Jolon how to fight with the Force alone. He's also helping the Melida/Daan coordinate their intellegence operations._**

**_Sorry, but that was as much for my benefit as yours. Anyways, thanks for reading._**

Semreh stood perfectly still, eyes shut, ears listening for movement. His fingers twitched a little with anticipation and he reached into the Force, letting it flow through him. Suddenly, everything around him suddenly seemed crystal clear, even with his eyes closely shut. The air seemed filled with the Force, and like water, every little movement made within it sent ripples crashing through his consciousness. When Master Jolon rushed from his hiding place among the woods, Semreh turned, raised his hand, and launched a barrage of lightning at him.

Jolon skidded to a stop and held out one hand, easily catching the lightning in his hand. He closed it, easily dissipating the lightning with his fist. Raising his other hand, he smiled and the air around him crackled. For a brief moment, an aura of yellow electric light surrounded him before traveling through his body, down his arm, and through two of his extended fingers. A single bolt lanced out, traveling like, well, lightning straight towards Semreh.

Semreh clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the bolt to strike his chest. A burst of heat caused him to wince as the bolt shot passed his shoulder so close it singed his hair. With a shout, he jumped back, feeling the edges of his brown hair. It was crisping beneath his fingers.

"Jeez!" Semreh said, trying to keep his hair from catching fire. "Did you have to do that?"

"It's not my fault you can't deflect my attack." Jolon said with a dismissive wave.

"YOU HAVN'T TAUGHT ME THAT YET!" Semreh said, pointing his finger angrily at Jolon. The old man's eccentricity was starting to get on his nerves.

"Really?" The old man said, scratching the bald spot on his head. "That's oddly irresponsible of me."

Semreh snorted, feeling the crisped edges of his hair. The man was willing to teach him to shoot lightning from his fingertips, and he called himself responsible?

He needed a haircut anyways. It had grown long and kinda shaggy, which could be a major problem in combat. He'd always carefully kept his hair short and he wasn't about to stop now. Add that to the patches of hair starting to sprout from his chin and neck, and he was starting to look like some type of mountain man.

"Well," Jolon said, dropping into a fighting stance. "I suppose I should at least teach you the theory of deflecting lightning, though it's too dangerous for me to just shoot at you. We'll have to come up with some other way for that."

Semreh nodded, but something bothered him.

"Why would I ever need to deflect lightning?" Semreh said, eyeing Jolon suspiciously. "Unless I had to fight a Sith, I doubt the time would arise."

"This skill has many uses." Jolon explained. "You would really be surprised how often manipulation of electricity can come in handy. Besides, it will help you learn precise control of the Force, an important skill when I teach you the advanced techniques. Otherwise, you're liable to blow off your own arm."

Semreh nodded, accepting the need for such practice. Over the past week, he'd practiced day and night with Jolon. His arms were sore from the constant current of lightning imbued Force running through his nervous system, and only constant healing from Jolon kept his skin from peeling right off.

"Deflecting or containing lightning without a lightsaber is one of the most difficult techniques." Jolon said, raising his hand, making a claw with his fingers. "Go ahead and fire a short burst at me." Semreh raised his hand and shot a burst from his fingers, and three bolts shot out and channeled themselves towards Jolon's hand.

"Even before they reach your hand," Jolon yelled over the loud crackling. "You should begin channeling them towards you. Skillful masters can guide many bolts to their hands at once." As they neared Jolon, the old man gathered the Force around him, focusing it in his hand. When the lightning struck, it did not explode or channel up Jolon's arm, but instead seemed to curve back on itself.

"The trick," Jolon said, breathing hard. "Is to guide the lightning around your hand, swirling it instead of trying to stop it cold. Think of it this way, you're rotating it into a ball held in your palm. Spin the lightning around and around."

Semreh gaped a little. It looked as though Jolon was holding a small ball of pure energy. It glowed white hot, was fringed with blue, and seemed to crackle twice as loud as before. With a sigh, Jolon raised his arm to his right and released the lightning. The force of its blast blew a foot wide hole in a nearby tree.

"Once you feel the need, you can release the energy back at your opponent." Jolon explained, beginning to wrap his arm in bandages again. "Unfortunately, it also leaves you incredibly open to counter attacks if you're outnumbered." Jolon stepped towards Semreh, pulling his arms up and the sleeves back, revealing the minor burns that covered his skin.

"We're done for the day?" Semreh asked questioningly while Jolon ran his palm over Semreh's arm. The tingling and itching sensation of his skin regrowing made Semreh's hair stand on end.

"I'm tired." Jolon bluntly stated. "An old man needs his three naps a day. Besides, somebody's here to see you." Semreh turned, but felt Fless through the Force before he saw him step from behind one of the nearby trees.

"Impressive." He said, crossing his amrs. "I guess I can forgive you for missing my lesson today."Semreh felt his face grow red and slapped his forehead with a groan. He had been supposed to train with Fless today, but had completely forgotten. In fact, it had probably been a good week since he'd practiced the first tier of Echani forms.

"Sorry." He said a little lamely. "I've-I've been busy." Fless laughed, nonchalantly thrusting his hands into the pocket of his suit.

"Bet you're the life of the party little man. I was only joking."

"Yes well," Jolon said from behind, getting to his feet. "If you two are done talking about that brutish training, I've got a couple hours of sleep I need to catch up on. And I sense Fless did not come for the pleasure of trading mindless insults with you." Semreh looked at Fless, who nodded.

"Nield needs to talk with you. We've got a problem."

* * *

Semreh watched in silent horror as images flashed across holonet vid playing in the command bunker of the Chaser headquarters. Fless's partner, Sten, a big man with a carefully shaved head and the sheer muscle mass of a bear, had managed to tap into the feed without revealing the location of the base. Also there was Nield himself, along with his chief Shield Chaser Dachi, Sami, acting Chief Tactical Commander of both the national army and Ranger Chasers, and a Commander Templeton, commander of Melida/Daan's small defense navy.

Also represented via hologram was Bren from their small asteroid field base, and Sonya, using the long range holonet transmitter of the Arrow. When Semreh asked where Scout was, she said she was taking a nap. Slightly ominous in Semreh's mind, but he pushed the worry away. There was a much greater threat at the moment.

"…At this moment, details remain sketchy," the commentator was saying, "But reliable sources have stated that the wookies were allowing a band of rouge Jedi to use Kashyyyk as a base for rebel strikes against the Empire. The police action is believed to have begun with a demand that the Jedi be surrendered. Instead, the wookies resisted, and the result was a battle that left tens of thousands dead, including the Jedi insurgents, and perhaps hundreds of thousands imprisoned."

Semreh looked at the rest of the assembly's faces. He saw worry cross Nield's face, a type of hardened determination flash on Bren's, and Sonya just kept nodding, as though she'd seen this coming. Of course, no one looked overly surprised.

"On Coruscant," The commentator continued, "Kashyyyk Senator Yurua and the members of his delegation were placed under house arrest before any statements could be issued. But on the minds of many just now is the identity of this person, captured by holocam on a landing platform normally reserved for the Emperor himself. Holonet news has learned that he is known in the highest circles as Lord Vader. Beyond that, almost nothing is known, save for the fact that he led the action on Kashyyyk."

The screen showed a tall dark imposing figure leading a column of white clad stormtroopers into the Emperor's building. Something about his movements made him seem…well, not human. It wasn't that it was clumsy like a machine, but it wasn't the well put together grace of a human. It looked like he walked like a robot was missing something or a human that was poorly put together.

"The rest is just mindless gibberish on behalf of this reporter." Fless sniffed with a touch of disgust. "The point is that we've already lost a major player in this game."

Nield nodded, nervously straightening his white suit and acting like he was picking lint of his shoulder.

"Kashyyyk is really the last place I expected the Empire to move. Politically, alienating a planet of such enormous strategic importance and getting bogged down in a guerrilla war with the wookies…It makes no sense, especially since the clone army is still recovering from the Clone Wars."

"You forget," Sonya interrupted, looking up at the president from the communication consol, "Palpatine's first target was the Jedi. I don't know why he always targets them (Semreh shifted uncomfortably) but he clearly is willing to subjugate planets to bring down only a handful."

"Puts us in something of a sticky situation, huh Semreh." Fless said with a wry grin. Semreh said nothing. He knew quite well why Palpatine was hunting them down. As a Sith, the Jedi were his chief opponents and he knew very well that the leaders of his enemies would be them.

"Either way," Bren said, looking at the assembled leaders. "We aren't ready to move openly against the Empire. Nobody is, but our job was to distract the Empire while planets like Kashyyyk and the major planets could rally support or join us. Now though…If the Empire is going to start knocking off major planets like that, it's like we're going into a game of chess without a bishop and a rook."

"At most," Nield said, "We'd be able to form our own government. A Republic-in-exile that the Empire would tolerate before destroying it. But that's be a best case scenario if many other planets joined our cause, which won't happen because they all saw what happened to Kashyyyk."

They all fell silent, each pondering their own problems with the current situation. Silently, Semreh promised himself he'd keep a close eye on Bren and Sonya. Honorable he may be, but Bren was still a merc, and Sonya was even more brutally logical than most clones he'd met.

"What we need," Nield said, "Is more allies other than the Commonality and Naboo. I know that the Jedi aren't very big right now, but don't you have any old contacts in the upper reaches of government that you could convince to join us?" Semreh shook his head, silently racking his brains for every possible agent and friend he'd ever met outside the Temple.

"None that come to mind." He admitted. "And any I did know are probably dead or on the run by now. Being a friend of a Jedi is just as bad as the real deal I'm afraid."

"Then…We give up?" Fless said with a casual shrug. "I don't like losing, but I also like living better."

"Stow that talk." Captain Templeton said sharply. He eyed the Chaser coldly, a military man to the core. He was within Nields inner circle and therefore considered trustworthy. At least, by Nield. The Chasers felt a little different. "I'm sure there's good news…Right?"

"Actually, yes." Bren said, "The Commonality planet Vorzyd V has presented us with a pair Sabaoth-class destroyers, as a gesture of good faith. Our crews are getting to know each other as we speak." A hologram flashed up, showing the mixed species of mercenaries conversing with the tall gaunt looking Vorzdiaks on the deck of one of the ships. The aliens had larger than normal eyes that seemed to get even wider as they looked around the captured Imperial ship, and yellowish skin from their toes to the tips of their antennas.

"Ah," Nield said, looking down at Commander Bren, "Your negotiations were successful?"

"More or less." Commander Bren said hesitantly, looking at Sonya, who explained.

"We've convinced Vorzyd V and their Prime Minister has Vorzyd IV ready to join if the rest of the Commonality goes to war, but the rest of the planets may take some convincing." Sonya explained.

"Also," The Commander continued, "Zraii is working with the Vorzdiaks on a few designs I had him write up. New fighters and weapons that I'm hoping Vorzyd IV can begin producing with their factories."

"Who are you to design ships?" Daichi asked suspiciously.

"I was once a professor of engineering at the University of Corellia." Bren said, grinning at the suited Chaser. "Their School of Starship Engineering was excellent. Didn't pay as well as this though."

Semreh nodded. Unlike the natives of Vorzyd V, native of Vorzyd IV dedicated their lives to manufacturing. They disdained fun and games, and were therefore one of the more powerful producers in the galaxy. If they began supplying weapons and vehicles, they would be in good shape. Now all they needed was men to man them.

As he considered everything the various allies had said, he was surprised to see them all looking at him. He couldn't really fathom why they all seemed to look to him for their decisions. Evidently, Jedi still carried quite a bit of weight in the galaxy.

"I think it's time we took a more active role in fighting the Empire." Semreh suggested finally, "The fact that we didn't see such a massive strike coming means we are woefully short of intelligence. Is there any way we can start setting up an intelligence unit?" He looked at Nield as he spoke, who turned to Daichi with a questioning glance. The Shield Chasers also acted as Nield's own personal counterintelligence team, making them the best qualified for such matters.

"I suppose a few of the counter intelligence units from the Shield Chasers could be used to start establishing a circle of contacts." Daichi said reluctantly. "But it will be difficult to find people who won't sell out. Especially when people who challenge the Empire are being knocked off every week."

"Then keep them in the dark about as much as you can." Nield said insistently. "Semreh is right. If we don't know what the Empire's next target is, we'll never be able to counter their movements. Also, have them begin setting up recruiting stations for new recruits. Take them to wherever Commander Bren is gathering our forces."

"I suppose this could work." Daichi said slowly. "I'll need the cooperation of the Commonality though. I'm sure they have a few intelligence agencies that could come in handy."

"Even with the Commonality intelligence agencies, do we have enough?"

"I will have to activate a few retired agents and make some arrangements, but yes, we will."

Semreh nodded, and made a mental note to look at those blueprints Bren was talking about.

"Also, find out as much as you can about where those wookies were taken." Semreh said. "There's got to be a reason they didn't just blow hell out of the planet. Why take so many prisoners and where do they plan to keep them? You don't just take that many people, and not have a plan for logistics. Especially wookies"

Daichi was quiet for a while, standing, deep in thought. Then, he nodded in agreement and wrote something down on a small piece of paper that he handed to Fless. He looked at it, nodded, and left the room with Sten trailing behind.

"They'll go make arrangements." Daichi said, looking at Sami. "I'd like to borrow a few of your Rangers for some muscle, if you wouldn't mind." Sami nodded, pulling a comlink out of her khaki pants.

"Just make sure nobody knows they're there." She said with a reluctant look. "We can't let anybody know that Melida/Daan is involved in…whatever it is you're planning." Sami looked away, speaking into her comlink, before briefly turning back to ask Daichi where she should order the squad to meet. He responded with a set of coordinates, the location of one of the Chaser's many hidden enclaves. Then, he outlined his plan.

From the Chaser spaceport, the various Chasers and agents would be dispatched across the galaxy, setting up intelligence connections and recruiting stations on planets where discontent reigned. They would spread dissent as best they could and gather recruits, sending them to Bren's asteroid base, where they would be trained.

"What asteroid base?" Bren interrupted in an objecting voice.

"The one you're going to make." Daichi shot back, looking at him sharply. "Don't worry, the Commonality will foot the bill, but we need a hidden base to train and gather a fleet. Then, when we're ready, we strike." The various leaders waited for a few moments, then gradually each nodded their heads in agreement. Except captain Templeton.

"I do not believe the Melida/Daan Fleet should move from its current position." He said, a little stiffly. "As the Empire is using our ports for its campaign against the Separatist Holdouts, they would notice if any of our cruisers suddenly went missing. Rather, we should stay here to keep an eye on Imperial movements, and relay them to you."

"Agreed." Nield said before anyone could speak up. "I agree that we should keep all fleets of our alliance in their home ports so the Empire suspects nothing. We can quickly rally if anyone of us comes under attack. Commander Sonya, would you inform the Commonality of our plans. I'm sure they would like to be brought into the loop." Sonya nodded, and gradually the entire assembly was nodding, looking pleased with their plan.

"Very well gentlemen." Semreh said, looking at each of the powerful leader, who seemed to look to him for example, for one reason or another. Bren because he'd saved his life and the lives of his men. Nield because he was a Jedi, the same as Obi-Wan, his old friend. They all followed him and Scout, but when it came down to it, neither he or Scout was qualified to lead. Nor was Jolon, lazy old man that he was. They needed someone else. Anyone else.

"We will meet again like this in a few weeks." Nield said to the assembly. "Until then," He said, turning to look at Semreh with a small smile.

"May the Force be with us all."

* * *

Vader was hardly a being that could simply be summoned. Even the Emperor knew better than to waste his time on minor events of little importance. So, when he received the Emperors summons to the deepest part of the Imperial Intelligence building, he went without hesitation.

Striding through the hallways of the dark building, he could sense cries echoing through the Force from every direction. They're cries tore at him, wounded him, and he crushed them in a fist around his mechanical heart. They were Jedi, captured from Order 66. He could hardly guess what the Empire's plan for these Jedi were, but they were here for a reason.

As he came to the doorway of the room he was meant to enter, he sensed the presence of his master, and strode in. Inside, a crowd of stormtroopers stood ready with stun batons in front of a shackled man.

The man was certainly any Jedi Vader had ever seen, and Vader had known a lot of Jedi. His arms were suspended above his head, hands shackled in force cuffs while a pair of robotic arms jabbed into his body precisely, each time releasing an enormous blast of electricity.

The man wore the remains of a long dark robe that hung loosely on his shoulders. It seemed to be interwoven with a type of leather, probably for extra protection. Now though, it was torn open in the front, letting the Droids full access to his weakened body. The man's face was intricately tattooed, starting at the top of his forehead and continuing down the right side of his face.

"Who is he?" he asked his silent master.

"A member of an ancient order called the Matukai." Sidious responded in an interested voice. "They are quite separate from the Jedi, though they will make valuable tools against them. They have, of course, been hunted down as well."

"And this one?" Vader said coldly. Another flash of electricity lit the air, and the man screamed.

"We have been reconditioning him for several weeks now. Originally, he was captured by the Separatists, but I arranged to have him brought here after the war's end."

Vader, trapped within his monstrous suit, could not shudder, but felt he would have had he had any remaining humanity. The man had no doubt been tortured for months.

"And?" Vader asked questioningly. "Has it worked?" Sidious shot a look at Vader for a moment from beneath his shadowy hood, then turned his attention back to the prisoner.

"We will see."

* * *

Master Jaycon Sha raised his head painfully. Bright lights were shining in his eyes, causing his vision to spin suddenly. His head snapped back as another jolt of energy coursed through his body, filling his veins with liquid fire. His arms and legs jerked uncontrollably, flailing against the stun shackles.

"You will not break." The voice said from beyond the darkness. "But, like every Force user brought before us, you will bend eventually." Another jolt, and Jaycon felt his chest shoot forward. He gasped for breath, no longer having enough air in his lungs to scream. Jedi were there…Somewhere. He could feel them through the Force, beacons in the darkness. But like all the others, his vision was obscured, not by the dark side, but the hell that surrounded him.

"I want out!" He finally screamed, jerking against the restraints. "I want out."

The Force surged, the restraints snapped, and Jaycon jumped forward into a crowd of waiting stormtroopers. They raised their stun batons, but the Force surged and two of the batons flew into his waiting hands. The man plunged into the crowd, wielding the batons with the skill of a master, not blocking, only chopping straight through the arms of those who challenged him. Flipping backwards, he saw a pair of shadowy figures calmly watching him.

He turned and charged towards them, every ounce of his body on fire from the burning pain. He slid, planning to sweep their legs out from under them, to destroy the source of his pain. He knew it. Jaycon could sense the malevolent power of dark side emanating from them. The, he felt a fist close around his fist and throw him across the room.

Leaping to his feet, he saw what looked like it might be a massive war droid bearing down on him. It might have been a droid, but for the way it moved, and the crimson lightsaber it carried. Leaping forward, Jaycon spun, trying to catch the droid off guard, but was shocked when he felt the Force surge from him and catch him in mid air.

"That's enough of that." The cloaked figure behind him said. "Lord Vader, lower him."

Jaycon felt himself fall to the ground in a heap, his arms and muscles still for the first time since his electrotorture began. He couldn't imagine how long it had been. A day? A week? Two years? It was all a blur of endless screaming.

"I have saved you from hell." The cloaked figure said to him. The man (At least, Jaycon thought it was a man) looked small and pitiful next to the towering armored man. "I am your salvation. I could have left you here to rot forever. Instead, you are being given a chance to change your ways. Do you accept?"

Jaycon lay there for a minute, letting his body rest. It was all too much. The prospect of many more months of this was crushing.

"Bite me!" He spat up to the figure.

The man made a gesture, and the armored figures crimson blade ignited and snapped forward, shearing off the skin of the right side of his face. He fell back, screaming desperately at the ceiling of the room.

"Continue." The cloaked figure said to the collection of stormtroopers. "But try to have him ready. Soon."

**_Read and Review please_**


	41. Chapter 41 Closing Forces

**_Soo, I've realized this is going to take a while. I hope y'all don't mind (I really hope that I spelled that right Elemarth :)_**

**_Anyways I hope you all hang in there._**

Fless and Sten looked around the spaceport, watching the fast paced action with only mild interest. Most of the assembled Chasers were either extremely young or old retired Chasers who were drafted for the effort.

"Yeah, fine print is great." Daichi had said when some of the ex-Chasers complained. "Now get your asses on the transport."

The remaining dissenters stayed quiet, knowing that further argument would be worthless. True, Daichi was quite a bit younger than most of the old Chasers, but his stern, disciplining gaze, made the most hardened old agents and killers cringe.

"Think these old men can handle the work?" Sten asked with a touch of contempt in his voice. At that moment, there was a tremendous roar from their right. A single elderly man was standing in front of a large target. Well, it was a large target, but the heavy repeater slung over his shoulder had blown it half.

"Most of these men led the fight against the Seps." Fless answered. "And many more are vets from the civil war. You won't find better men." Shouldering a pack, the two of them loaded onto one of fifteen different small, unmarked freighters. Their professional suits set them apart from the rest of the makeshift agents, most of who came in farmers and street clothing.

Many were ex-Ranger Chasers, and had a substantial dislike for the Shield Chasers, who they saw as stuffy, overrated, and overly ruthless. But as the seats of the small ship vibrated, all the Chasers were united in their prayers that the rickety craft would hold together.

* * *

As Scout finally came too, two thoughts crossed her mind.

The first was, _"What is that smell?"_ It reminded her of curled milk and eggs gone bad.

Her second thought was, _"I am so dismantling that little I-C droid." _

Opening her eyes, Scout looked up. She was in some type of hut judging by the thatched roof and as she turned her head, she saw the source of the smell to be a bowl hanging from the ceiling next to her cot. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, Scout gazed into the pottery bowl, but could not quite see its contents. Her head spun from suddenly jerking upright, and she fell back down, eyes tightly shut.

"_Ow_." She thought with a tiny groan. Taking a deep breath, she gingerly pushed herself upright, and slid from the bed. Her tunic hung loosely on her, and her robes and cloak hung from a nearby branch.

Getting dressed, she took stock. Every part of her seemed to hurt, but only her sides were bandaged. Probably her cracked ribs. She had a bad cut on her chin that was already scabbing over and a few other injuries, but other than that, she felt well enough to move. Buckling her utility belt around her waist, and checking her lightsaber for tampering, she stepped out of the hut and into the sun.

It looked bright outside, but Scout could see that most of the village was already in deep shadow, the result of it being embedded within the side of a canyon. Looking about, she could see the many young Kilmaulsi leaping through the trees with the agility of real birds in flight. Whenever one would stumble or fall, they would always catch a branch.

One of them, a particularly lean looking one, missed all the branches, but coolly drew a knife from its belt, and threw it. At first, Scout didn't understand the action, but soon realized there was a thin thread trailing the knife. When it bit deep into the wood of one of the rising trees, the thread went taunt and stopped his fall.

"_Amazing_." Scout thought in admiration. "That _thread must be as strong_ _as_ _steel!"_

The young Kilmaulsi was hauling himself up now along the thread, pulling with powerful arms. They really were very similar to wookies. Even their lopping gait that made them look so clumsy on the ground, and so graceful while leaping through the trees.

"You're awake." A voice cried from behind Scout. She turned, and saw Sonya walking towards her, accompanied by a pair of Kilmaulsi warriors. These warriors were not wearing that strange. Instead, they seemed to be clothed in long tunics that were tied together with a local rope substance.

"You were out for quite a while." Sonya said with a touch of amusement. Her face quickly fell back to its serious glare. "But we need to talk about the Kilmaulsi."

"What about?" Scout said, rubbing her head in irritation. "I fought that one, didn't I? What else do they want?"

"Unfortunately," I-C said, appearing over Sonya's shoulder. "It appears I mistranslated. You needed to win the fight, as a gesture that the Jedi were worthy of an alliance with the Kilmaulsi. Since you lost-"

Scout's hand moved faster than the eye could follow, grabbing the small floating orb out of the air. Sonya watched her coldly as I-C struggled in her grip.

"Please release me." The droid whined indignantly. "I am a precision instrument of diplomatic rela-"

"You got me beaten into a pulp by a giant chicken, and now you tell me our entire alliance was riding on that fight!" Scout snarled through gritted teeth. "You'll be lucky to know Basic when I'm through with you!"

"How very Jedi-like," Sonya said dryly, "But I'm afraid that we need that little bugger a little longer. These Kilmaulsi can't speak a word of Basic."

Scout released the small droid with a sigh. She felt so volatile these days, as if any peace she'd had had been pushed aside by the few months past events. The Temple. The Clones. Whie. Scout suddenly realized she had barely thought of Whie since leaving the Temple. Guilt flooded through her, and she couldn't understand why her best friend had been pushed so far away from her mind.

"_First_ _chance I get_," She thought, "_I'll take some time, and think about him…Or something. I promise."_

"Either way," Sonya continued, looking at Scout with a peculiar expression. "We now only have two choices. Either we leave the Kilmaulsi to their own devices. Or…"

"Or what?" Scout said with a weary shake of her head. She had a feeling this would involve more kung fu fighting birds.

"Or we find a way for you to get strong enough to take on that chieftain in a rematch."

Scout snorted derisively.

"Trust me Sonya; I know something about fighting, and that guy was way better than me. Way better than I could ever be."

"That's why, you need a teacher. A master." Scout started, then shook her head fiercely.

"No." She murmured firmly. "No more masters. I'm just bad luck."

This time, Sonya snorted.

"No such thing." She lectured, "We make our own luck. All of us, by how hard we work. By how smart, by how fast, by how strong we are. That is luck."

Scout stared at Sonya, as if seeing her for the first time. She had always seemed so distance, so purely logical. Her voice had always been tinged with ice, even when she laughed. She certainly didn't seem like the big sister type, but that was the connection Scout felt at that moment.

"There's still the problem of not having a teacher." Scout said uncertainly. "I have no idea if there's anyone that skilled that I know of."

"Our supporters among the Kilmaulsi know of one." I-C interrupted, still keeping his distance from Scout. "Kind of a strange old hermit. At least, according to them. He lives in the nearby caves, supposedly merely surviving off of the land. But his Kilmaulsi name translates to 'First Teacher', and locals seem to both respect and avoid him. I suspect he would help you."

Scout pondered Sonya's suggestion for a moment. She'd promised Semreh she'd bring the Commonality into their alliance, and that included the Kilmaulsi. If she had to refight that crazy bird, then so be it.

"Pack your bags then." She said through a wide grin. "We're gonna go learn from the master."

* * *

Semreh unleashed a powerful burst of lightning from his hand, and watched it seem to fan out before him. He sighed, waiting for the inevitable cries of annoyance and abuse. He was not disappointed.

"It's still too unfocused." Jolon exclaimed, stepping forward to demonstrate again. In one smooth motion, he stepped, dropped to a knee, and jabbed his hand forward, two fingers extended. Pure electricity channeled down his arm and out those two fingers, flashing forward like a cannon, and blowing a coin credit sized hole in a nearby tree.

"See," He said again, already healing his liver spotted hand. "You need to keep the electricity in a tight channel to maximize its efficiency. Any old Sith Lord or even Jedi can throw lightning like that, but to turn it into a weapon of this caliber necessitates a skill in controlling the Force that only you and I have."

Semreh nodded again, and dropped to one knee suddenly, firing his arm forward, extending two fingers. There was a flash, and for a moment, Semreh thought he'd done it. The lightning arced from his fingertips, keeping its linear and arrowhead shape. Then, his concentration slipped, and the electricity dissipated.

"Well," Jolon said with a sigh. "That was extraordinarily anti-climatic."

"Well I've only just started." Semreh said angrily as he rubbed his arm. The skin was already beginning to peel and burn. "Will you just heal my arm already? It feels like it's on fire."

Jolon obliged, pulling his arm roughly so Semreh winced. Resting his hand on Semreh's skin, he began the process of regenerating Semreh's skin cells. It was an itchy and burning experience, but he was beginning to see how it worked.

"Any chance of you teaching me to do this on my own?" Semreh growled in a slightly irritable voice. "It's a little creepy having the old guy feeling my arm all the time."

"Get used to it kid." Jolon murmured, still concentrating on Semreh's arm. "We're all born with unique talents in the Force. Healing isn't yours."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that actually." Semreh said, flexing his arm as Jolon finished. "What kinds of talents do you mean? Back in the war, I knew a padawn who could cause earthquakes with his powers."

"Yes, that would be one." Jolon said with an amused smile. "I suppose that is an offshoot of telekinesis, but merely makes it easier for him to move earth and trigger tremors. There are others though."

"Like…"

"Well, believe it or not there are other Force based Orders other than the Jedi." Jolon raised his fingers, counting them off. "There are the Jal Shey, who study the Force much the way I do, from an intellectual perspective. In fact, I once studied with one of their masters in my travels. There's also the Zeison Sha, the remnants of a group of Jedi that fled to the Outer Rim planet of Yanibar with refugees during the early Sith Wars. They are particularly skilled with telekinesis, and are also extraordinarily isolationist. They refused offers to join the Jedi order many times."

"So, will the Empire leave them alone?" Semreh asked, sensing the possibility of powerful allies.

"No, but they won't join the Jedi, so put that idea out of your head." Jolon warned. "Most of them feel they were abandoned by the Jedi Order, left to rot in the Outer Rim. No, they won't join."

"Anyone else?" Semreh questioned. "I think we could use all the help we could get."

"Well," Jolon mused, looking up at the sky. "I suppose the Matukai are worth mentioning. They're a group of very nomadic Force users who believe that having a careful balance between spirit and physical strength is the true way to avoid the dark side. Therefore, they train themselves in martial arts and other physical activity, in order to purify their bodies. They'd be powerful allies, but are so scattered, they've become rather rare."

"Still," Semreh insisted. "Perhaps they would join us against the Empire."

"Perhaps," Jolon conceded, "But you'd have to be pretty damn lucky, or unlucky, to meet one of them."

* * *

C-41 watched on the view screen as Melida/Daan rapidly filled their vision. CTA-132 was piloting, while C-41 co-piloted, cleaning his blaster rifle as he did. The mercenaries were somewhere in the back of the freighter, taking their time and relaxing.

"We're on approach." CTA-132 said calmly as he fiddled with the control consol. "The Melida/Daan Defense fleet is asking for our identification and reason for our entering their sector."

"Tell them that…" Then C-41 looked up, and saw that several Imperial signatures were bleeping on the radar.

"Tell them we are an investigative team sent here to investigate Separatist terror activity, and that we will dock with the Imperial flagship in orbit."

"You already thinking about our cover?" CTA-132 said, looking down as he transmitted their message.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the girl. We'll need an excuse to search the planet, and we can use the girl's explosive skill, and the governments fear of her terrorism, to create such an excuse."

"I didn't think of that," C-41 mused, "But you're right. We can use her again. What about the kids?"

C-41 tensed as CTA-132 smiled that creepy smile that all Clone assassins seemed to have. Or maybe it was just that he was talking to a man who killed awol clone troopers. Including ARCs and commandos. Not only were the clone assassins skilled in almost every form of combat, stealth, and strategy. They were also simply the coldest, most ruthless soldiers ever created.

"We could just slot them." CTA-132 murmured, letting what of his wrist knives fall from their hidden hilts. "That would simplify things."

"And how would we convince the girl to keep acting on our orders." C-41 challenged. "She'll want to keep seeing the kids, as assurance that their okay, which could be a problem if we blow holes through their heads."

"Fine, we keep them around, but keep them hidden and under lock and key. We can't have any of them getting out."

"Right." C-41 said, drawing a blaster pistol with a grim expression. "I'd better go back and check on our prisoners. You good up here." CTA-132 nodded silently, and C-41 stepped back into the corridors of the ship, finally coming to the cargo bay.

He knocked on the door loudly, yelling, "I'm coming in. Stand away from the door." Aiming his blaster, he kicked open the door, sweeping it back and forth. After making sure that the kids and Jenna were back against the opposing wall, he lowered his blaster and stepped forward.

"You all right?" He questioned, stepping forward cautiously. She didn't answer. She just looked at him with terrified eyes, arms wrapped protectively around the children. C-41 sighed heavily. He hated this part of the job.

"We've got another job for you." He said, plastering his most reassuring smile across his face. "After that, we'll let you, and your children, go. All you have to do is help us kill one more person."

Jenna was silent, unable to look at the children, who were staring at her with bewilderment. The oldest, the one Gerik had beaten half to death looked shocked, and almost incredulous, as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Can we please talk about this somewhere else?" Jenna pleaded, fear in her eyes.

"Sure." C-41 said kindly. Helping her to her feet, he led her out of the room and into the hallway, all the while keeping his hand on his pistol.

"Just a precaution." He assured at her questioning glance. He closed the door behind them with a clang, and turned to face her. "Now, will you help us, or not?"

The young girl was quiet. Her raven black hair had fallen in front of her face, concealing her eyes, but C-41 had enough experience to know they were brimming with fear.

"Even if I help you, you probably won't let me go. Am I right?"

C-41 started. He had not expected such a direct accusation. A soldier at heart, who had completed a few black ops missions in his time, C-41 knew what he should do. He should have lied. He could have lied. He had to lie.

"Yes." He admitted, unable to look her in the eyes. "You're a liability to the Empire. You know about us, about our missions, and about our crimes. You can't live."

"And the non-clones." She said, with a wincing glare down the corridor where the mercs were sleeping.

"Oh, they definitely know what'll happen to them. They just think they'll beat us."

"You're not worried?"

C-41 laughed, mirthless and cool.

"We're bred to fight and kill mongrels like them. We never lose."

"Except when you do." Jenna shot back, no particular spirit in her voice. "And the kids. If I do this, can you at least protect them? They won't remember any of this. Just make sure they go somewhere safe."

Jenna got on her knees now, looking up at C-41 with pleading eyes. She grasped at the sides of his armor, begging. She looked so desperate; her dark hair flung over her face, like the mother C-41 never had and had never known.

"Please."

C-41 should have lied. He could have lied. He had to lie.

"Yes."

**_Thanks for reading. Please Read and Review._**


	42. Chapter 42 The Canyon

**_Here we go with chapter 42! _**

Scout and I-C were sent off by virtually the entire village of Kilmaulsi. They watched, mostly in stoic silence except for the occasional crowing. Evidently, it had something to do with the religious significance of the rising sun. Scout waved to them as she shouldered her pack and trudged into the wilderness that bordered the village.

Their guide, a young Kilmaulsi scout, seemed annoyed by the slow pace of the padawan and droid. He kept on pointing at herm then at the tree branches crisscrossing above them.

"I believe he wants us to travel through the trees as is the normal Kilmaulsi way."

"Tell him that unless I sprout wings in the next two hours, there's no way I'm going to do that."

I-C bobbed his head in an unusual droid nod. He squawked something at Kilmaulsi, who responded in a few disgruntled chirps.

"He says his name is Tesh something, something. He also says that anyone who cannot…'fly without wings' is what it translates to, does not deserve to train with the First Teacher."

"Well, tell him that if I was meant to fly, I'd have been born with wings. And, as far as I know, I don't. So, it's the good old ground for me."

"Do I really have to translate all that?" I-C whined, but stopped when his photo processors saw Scout's piercing glare. "All right, all right! Just give me a sec. By the maker, you are testy for a Jedi."

Scout realized the little droid was definitely right. She was more restless, more prone to anger, since her life on the run had begun. Maybe it was the lack of guidance from a master or the Temple. Maybe she, for the first time in her life, was free to pick her own path, and no longer knew where to go. Either way, she knew what she needed; direction and purpose.

"_Perhaps this True Master can provide me with both_." She thought with a brightening grin. At the very least, it gave her a something to do besides mind numbing politics. Though, technically she could probably just tell Semreh this was all part of the political discussion, as Kilmaulsi tended to settle disputes by fighting or other physical activities like knife throwing and tree running.

As they continued under the canopy of trees, Scout watched as Tesh performed amazing acrobatic feats above them. He looked like he was born for this type of travel, propelling himself through the air with subtle leaps using bent branches, and massive bounds and swings using the thread attached knives every Kilmaulsi seemed to wield.

"How do they all do that?" Scout asked, looking up at Tesh as he used a pair of knives to swing himself forward through the trees. "I mean, how do they manage to use that combination of knives and thread so skillfully?"

"The thread is made of a special metal that they call the…Well, actually, you need a beak to properly pronounce it. However, off-worlders call it durathread. Appropriate, yes?"

"No kidding." She said, as the large bird above them used the strings to change direction mid-air. "Wish I could do that. What do you have to do to get one of those?"

"A set is given to any Kilmaulsi who passes his manhood ceremony. So, unless you sprout wings and a beak, which will make your previous claim to young Tesh look very awkward indeed, I suggest you put the idea out of your head."

Scout tried, but couldn't seem to. Watching Tesh leaping above them, cawing as if he was really flying, made her heart jump. To be that free, to be able to fly without a starship or other device, without fear of falling…It was amazing.

Scout, I-C and Tesh soon found themselves at the base of an enormous canyon. The woods around them just suddenly ended, and a gaping…well, there was no other word for it, hole opened up before them. It looked barren compared to the rest of the planet, and deep within the canyon, Scout could see what looked like desert terrain.

"The temperature down there can in fact reach over a hundred degrees." I-C said in a matter-of-fact voice to her inquiry. "The Kilmaulsi generally avoid such areas, but the First Master is said to live here due to the intense conditions his training demands."

"So, how do we get down?" Scout asked, looking at Tesh, but he shook his feathered head, and pointed back into the direction they came.

"Remember what I said about them not wanting to go down there?" I-C said in a condescending tone, like a school teacher who had to explain something twice. "Please, pay attention. Now let's get moving."

The little droid zoomed down into the hole, no doubt eager to get out of Scout's reach. He stopped, and looked up at her, clearly impatient for her to move. Gingerly, Scout began stepping, one carefully measured foot at a time, down the canyon wall. She moved very, very cautiously, constantly reminded by I-C that "an organic would have no chance of surviving such a fall" and that the mission relied on her survival.

As she continued her descent, Scout soon realized that I-C had not been joking. The heat was rising quickly, and it already burned her hands to simply place them on the stone cliff's ledges. Blisters soon appeared on her hands and popped, leaving her hands bloodied and sore. But she gritted her teeth and continued, knowing that even if she tried to go back, she was over the halfway point and wouldn't make it back up.

Her hands continued to blister and deteriorate. It had been at least an hour since she began her climb, and most of the skin on her fingers and palm had been shorn off. The remaining skin was pink and bloody, like uncooked meat.

Finally, she could see the bottom. There was a small stream, at one point hidden by the shadows above, but now sparkling when the noon sunlight hit it from above. It looked so cool and refreshing, Scout had to actually stop herself from jumping the rest of the way into the stream.

"Don't be stupid." She rasped to herself, mouth dry from her hour long descent. "You don't even know how deep it is."

"Well, at the very least allow me to discern whether it is drinkable or not." I-C said, suddenly appearing at her shoulder. Scout jerked in surprise and almost slipped, barely grasping a ledge after falling nearly ten feet.

"I-C!" She yelled, shaking a fist at the droid, who immediately hid behind a small outcropping, photo processors peeping out. "Get me out of here, and then I'm going to dismantle you!"

"Not much incentive for me to come down then." He said, as much to himself as her. Still, he obediently floated down, helping to nudge her feet towards proper foot holds. Once she was was secure again, Scout heaved a sigh of relief and continued.

"Floating trash compactor." Scout murmured as she quickly climbed the last forty feet of the cliff. "Almost killed me more times than battle droids."

"Please, miss," I-C said in an indignant voice, "I am much better at dismantling organics than any simple battle droid."

Scout looked at the droids small body frame, and laughed.

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe." She turned, took a handful of the clear water in her hand, and drank. It felt wonderful, better than any drink she'd ever sipped, or any food she'd ever eaten. She continued to drink until sated, then looked at I-C.

"Well, let's get looking for the master."

"What makes you think he's anywhere nearby?" I-C questioned with a questioning head motion.

"Just a feeling." Scout answered. "Plus, this stream is the only source of food and water in the canyon. He must be somewhere down here."

"If he or she eats food." I-C muttered in a decidedly un-droid fashion.

* * *

As Semreh was no longer obligated to meet with Fless every day for Echani combat lessons, he threw himself into training with Jolon. Before long, he had almost complete mastery of the basic lightning techniques.

"Very good." Jolon said one crisp early morning. Semreh stood and straightened himself. He had just demonstrated his accuracy, blowing a small crisping hole through a leaf hanging from a tree several yards away. "At the very least, you have the control necessary for the next level of techniques."

Semreh nodded silently, but inside he bubbled with excitement. Though the technique caused him daily pain and had taken weeks to learn, lightning he knew, would be a potent defense against the Empire's soldiers.

"Jolon, may I ask a question?"

"Very well." Jolon said, already pulling the sleeve to Semreh's Jedi robes back for healing.

"Well, why do the ancient holos and pictures of the Sith always depict their lightning as so much bigger than mine? It seems as though theirs covers a much larger area than mine."

Jolon nodded, already focusing on Semreh's arm.

"The truth is that no Jedi can truly tap into the power of Force lightning. It's a power so driven by the dark side and violent emotions that even those of us who have a natural talent for controlling the Force will never truly master it without falling to the Dark Side. However," he said, raising a finger to Semreh's protests, "That's why you have trained to focus it into one single destructive shot. While the uncontrolled Sith lightning would surely electrocute its enemies, yours could punch a hole through durasteel."

"Right," Semreh agreed, "I understand. And these advanced techniques you want to teach me…?"

"Ahh, well, as you can probably guess, the Jedi did not always wield lightsabers as we do now."

Semreh nodded, having studied the ancient texts. There were many mentions of the Jedi fighting not with lightsabers, but regular blades imbued with the Force. These augmented blades were increased in sharpeness and durability to the point they could be used to block even a lightsaber.

"Well, as you know, the ancient Jedi fought with everything from regular blades to staffs. Once augmented with the Force, these weapons became as lethal as any lightsaber, but tell me; have you ever heard about how the ancient Jedi fought when unarmed?"

"No." Semreh said, shaking her head. "I assumed it is like our combat form taught at the Temple arts. The Broken Gate Form. It can be used by non-Force sensitives, but we fight with increased speed. Just like when we compare normal swordsmanship to lightsaber combat."

"True enough, but I'm going to teach you a technique that only someone with your skill could ever master. I have not named it, or anything like that. However, it is the one hit K.O. in your arsenal."

Jolon bent over, bending his knees into a crouched position and extending his left arm forward. He angled it downward, keeping it perfectly straight. "Stand back." He advised to Semreh, who promptly stepped backwards. He reached out through the Force, trying to sense the flow of the Force traveling through Jolon. There was a tremendous surge, and Jolon snapped his eyes open with a grunt. Then, the whole of the surrounding woods seemed to light up with a bright yellow light. Semreh shielded his eyes, letting them adjust for a second, then looked at Jolon.

The old man's face was scrunched in concentration. And pain. It took Semreh a second to realize why. The old man's entire left arm was crisscrossed with the light of Force lightning, but it wasn't shooting out. It was contained, circling and rotating around his arm like a drill. Semreh watched the streaming light, entranced.

With a roar, Jolon leapt forward like a blur, barreling towards a tree they'd been using for target practice. As he ran, Semreh sensed him using the Force to enhance his running, literally using the Force to push his feet off the ground with every spring. He let his arm hang to his left, sparking and spitting electricity, until he was within three yards of the tree. Then he brought it up, spearing forward with his own arm. His arm burned straight through the tree trunk without even slowing. Jolon continued, cutting through one tree, then another, then another. Finally, he stopped, ending his attack before the first tree trunk had fallen.

Semreh stood in awestruck amazement. He could still feel a static charge in the air, making his hair stand on end. The sheer amount of electricity Jolon had concentrated into his arm should have melted the skin from his bones, but the old man simply stood there, steam rising off his arm.

"How did you do that!?" Semreh yelled, trotting towards the old man.

"Sleep first, answers later." Jolon grunted. "I don't have enough energy to heal myself. I can barely walk." Semreh nodded silently, wrapping the old man's arm around his shoulder and helping him limp to the Chaser's base. Semreh looked at his hand and realized the old man had certainly not escaped unharmed. His entire arm was not only smoking, but burned through almost to the bone. His skin was peeled like a fruit, and flaking off in stiff chips.

"_I'm really beginning to rethink this."_ Semreh thought grimly.

* * *

**Two Days Later**

Two days later, Scout finally stopped searching. She could barely lift her feet anymore, let alone continue wandering aimlessly through the canyon. I-C and she had scoured every inch of the canyon, living off the water that had originally carved the canyon. Food soon became a problem though, as only the meanest and dirtiest brush grew on the bank.

The constant baking heat from above only compounded the problem, making Scout's once spotless tunic drenched with sweat. Her only reprieve was at night, when the sun dipped below the tall canyon wall. She'd long ago abandoned her robes, deciding that keeping that would kill her. It was now wrapped around her waist, tied with the sleeves. Scout would have retreated back up the cliff wall, but, even wrapped in clothe from her robes, her hands were barely useable, little more than raw bloody meat.

Finally, after two days on an empty belly and in scorching heat, Scout felt her legs fall out from under her, buckling. She looked around, and dragged herself up against the canyon wall, leaning against it.

"Come on." She faintly heard I-C urge. "You cannot stop yet. If you do, you'll die here." Scout didn't care, unable to force herself off her feet. I-C's voice rose urgently, but his loud voice only made Scout's eyes ree and her head ache.

Scout no longer cared. Her mind was failing, her thoughts becoming unclear and unable to focus. Scout realized she was going to die here. Alone, bereft of her friends. Semreh, Whie, Master Maruk, all of them. She looked up, hoping to glimpse the sun before the end. However, her vision was blocked by a tall shadow rising up in front of her. Scout released a small gasp, then fainted.

**_Thabks for reading, and welcome to new regular readers! Anyways, next chapter- 'Scout's Teacher'_**


	43. Chapter 43 Scout's Master

**_Chapter 43. This one turned out nicely. Scout's Master._**

Scout awoke to a vaguely familiar smell. It reminded her of the first time she'd been knocked unconscious on this planet. Opening her eyes, she turned her head and, as she suspected, there a bowl, steaming rising from it. She was in a cave from the looks of it. No, less than a cave, more of an outcropping of rock that shaded them from the sun. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she turned and saw her savior.

He was a strange alien, covered in tough, leathery skin. It was pallid and dead looking, as if it had been scarred by fire. However, much of the skin was covered by a thick leather suit it wore. The suit went from his head, where it was covered by a leather ornamental mask pulled tight over its face, showing only slits for its eyes, down its body, covering it's for slim arms and tall torso. It ended in a thick leather skirt that fell behind the being like an ARC troopers kama.

As Scout watched warily, the being bent down, picked up the bowl and tossed it out of the cave with a grateful sigh. "Smelling Salts." It said in a gravely tone. "To help you wake up."

"Thank you." She said, bowing her head respectfully. Scout decided that, judging from the tone of its voice, it must be a male. "Are you the First Master?" He was quiet, just looking at her with those narrow eyes. His gaze was disturbing, as if he could see through her.

"You should eat." He said, reaching into a pouch at his belt, pulling out a clump of what looked like dead meat. Scout took it in her hand, sniffing it suspiciously, then shrugged and dropped it into her mouth. It was clearly some type of preserved meat, salted heavily to keep mold from accumulating. Chewing on it, she looked at the First Master, and he stared back.

"Are you the First Master?" She asked again, this time with a little more force. "Look, I've had a long couple of days, and I'd like to at least have an answer."

"I am Yasuo." He stated simply with a shrug. "I have never claimed to be the First Master. That is a name the Kilmaulsi have given me. I was the first to teach them their own martial art, therefore, I am their first teacher. However, I learned it from my master, and he from his, and so on and so forth."

Scout stared in dumbstruck awe. _"The first to teach the Kilmaulsi their fighting art?"_ She thought incredulously. "_He must be ancient."_

"Are you a Jedi?" Scout said, a small smile on her lips.

"No, but our two orders are related."

"Then what are you?" She asked, impatience entering her voice. Yasuo just stared down at her, as if waiting.

"It is proper for a host to introduce a himself. However, the guest should at least give his or her name." Scout felt her cheeks redden and hung her head. Not a great start for someone she wanted to be her master.

"My name is Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy, a Jedi padawan…But please call me Scout." Yasuo's eyes narrowed a little more, then he nodded.

"A pleasure. I am Yasuo, one of the Matukai, an ancient order that once split from your own order. We have survived hundreds of years as nomads, keeping our numbers small to minimize corruption and training our bodies to purify them of the dark side."

"The Matukai?" Scout mused, shaking her head. "I've never heard of them."

"That's to be expected. There are very few of us left." Yasuo explained. "The first Matukai was a women from the world Karvoss II. According to our oral histories, she discovered the ability to touch the Force while practicing a form of meditative martial arts. She became stronger in the Force through her studies, gradually gathering students to her."

"But where did the students come from?" Scout interrupted. "Weren't they taken into the Jedi Order?"

"This was before your order began the practice of taking infants. Back then, many children slipped through to live normal lives. However, some formed their own societies based on the Force." Yasuo paused, then stood, holding his hands together in what resembled a prayer position, except he had his right hands index and middle fingers raised up from his laced fingers, gently touching his forehead. His other two hung loosely at his sides.

Scout watched, fascinated as Yasuo gracefully dropped from his stance, lowering his hands into a fighting stance, one hand extended palm up, the other drawn back against his side. His second pair of hands rose, bending backwards, its hands extending its index and middle fingers.

"The original martial art practiced by this woman was called the Matukai art. It involves balance, an impenetrable defense, and peace of mind. Great masters are able to use this moving meditation to channel the Force, and increase their strength in it."

Slowly, Yasuo took a step forward, thrusting with his drawn back palm, letting his extended arm fall back. He repeated the motion with his other arm, thrusting forward and letting the other fall back. He continued, using his palm strikes like pistons, pounding into invisible enemies.

"The Matukai utilizes the palm strike as its main form of attack." Yasuo said, continuing to move through the various forms of his martial art. "This is due to its defensive nature. The Matukai style is to wait, deflecting, rather than blocking strikes from an enemy, until they see an opening. Unlike a fist, the palm strike does not have to be clenched at the last moment to provide maximum impact. Therefore," He said, raising his palm as though blocking a strike at his face, then spinning to deliver a quick strike to what Scout imagined was his enemy's stomach, "You can strike before they move back to the defensive."

Scout watched him, imagining what it would be like to be able to fight at that type of range. She'd always fought well at close range, able to put the most crippling arm locks on people, and able to disable an arm for a few moments with the gentlest strikes at pressure points. But those all required her to be within grappling range, something that rarely happened in combat. And the idea of increasing her connection in the Force was appealing as well.

"It is fascinating." Scout confessed, "But how does that help one to connect to the Force?"

"It's difficult to explain." Yasuo said, a touch of amusement in his voice. "However, I suppose the best way to put it is…Well, just as Jedi meditate in a still position to allow the Force to sweep them away, the Matukai let their movement to sweep them away. By falling into combat, relying on instinct and skill, you enter into a meditative stance all your own."

Scout felt like she didn't understand, but she recalled something like that happening before to her. Being so lost in combat between her and her opponent that she didn't think, merely reacted, acting on instinct. Her one Force ability, those flashes of what her enemy was going to do next, always seemed to happen then, giving her the edge in those fast action fights. It also reminded her of how some padawans would pace and walk before a match in the Temple.

"I think I understand…At least a little bit." Scout said hesitantly. "Do…Do you think you could teach me to master this?" She said quickly at the end. Respectfully, she leaned forward, bowing, her knees under her.

"I swear I will give it my all!" Scout said, looking up at the master. "Please. My order is on the run, my friends need my help…And I don't want to be helpless anymore."

Yasuo looked down at her. His face was hard to read behind his mask, but his eyes looked surprised. Gently, as though he was an old frail man, not a powerful Force warrior, Yasuo sat down on a small rock protruding from the wall, shaking his head.

"I had sensed a great disturbance in the Force of late, as though any light the galaxy had left had been suddenly snuffed out. But this…" He looked up at her, a steely resolve in his eyes. "I have been isolated from the galaxy for too long it seems. You will have to tell me what has happened over the past couple of years. I'm afraid it has been a long time since any gossip or news has reached my ears. However, let's start with your story."

As Scout finished her story, Yasuo sat back against the cave wall, legs crossed, one pair of arms back behind his head, the other folded in his lap. He had listened patiently throughout her story, only occasionally asking questions about the Jedi and the Clone Wars. The old master claimed to have sensed much disorder and violence in the galaxy over the years, apparently the result of the war.

Scout, for her part, thought she had told the story well. Despite having deliberately pushed both the attack on the Temple and Whie's death into the back of her head, she'd dragged them forward without shedding so much as a tear. Yasuo seemed to sense something when she spoke about it, but he allowed her to continue uninterrupted.

"I see the galaxy has changed in my absence." Yasuo chuckled, "Not that I should be surprised. Things change. That is nature's way. But…" He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in. "I fear the Sith have turned this natural change and twisted it. If we are to stop them, if we are to keep the galaxy safe, we cannot leave it in their hands. I will come with you." He said, looking into her eyes, "After I have trained you."

"So you will!?" Scout said, joy leaping into her voice. She leapt up, practically clicking her heels in happiness.

"I just said that, didn't I?" Yasuo said, an amused chuckle rippling his voice. "First thing in the morning, but for now, rest. You will need it."

* * *

"I'm getting a little tired of having to watch you get patched up." Semreh said with a sour tone in his voice. Jolon was lounging in a hospital bad, his arm hooked up to a dripping tube of bacta, healing his arm. The old man had been forced to heal back most of the parts that were nurned all the way to the bone himself, but it had exhausted him. The old man was enjoying the awe he sensed from Semreh, an awe he had to admit was justified in this case.

The fact that the man had broken…no, shattered that many trees in that short a time was amazing. Not only was the power of the attack astounding, the speed and accuracy were far too fast for Semreh to follow, even assisted by the Force.

"The technique has no name." Jolon admitted, pushing himself into a sitting position. "However, I developed it early into my studies of the Force. It is a technique that requires the most precise control, as you are using your own nervous system to gather and circulate electricity." Jolon stopped for a moment, accepting a small cup of tea offered by a nearby nurse. Taking a sip, he continued.

"This technique is a one hit kill. Remember when I used electricity to blow up that tree trunk?" Semreh nodded. He had channeled enough energy into the tree trunk that, looking for a way out, it had exploded, shattering the tree trunk.

"Well, this technique relies on that particular type of attack. It has enough piercing power to break through the outer shell of any defense, then you can unleash the pent up electricity from your arm, destroying vehicles, buildings, and even people from the inside. In theory, all you have to do is make one successful strike, and you win."

"And the bad?" Semreh asked, gesturing at Jolon's mangled arm. "I know that passing that much electricity through your body causes damage, but even when I fired enormous bursts of lightning, I never ended up like that."

"The difference is that, unlike Force lightning, where you release the energy instantly, this technique forces you to hold it in your arm, circulating it over and over again. That circulating energy creates the extremely potent cutting force, but also will burn through your own arm. That's why, if you do use this technique, you should have someone nearby to heal you." Jolon took another sip of his tea, breathing heavily. "For instance, if we were to fight and have to use this technique, you would strike, then I would heal you. Otherwise, you would be left helpless to counter attack."

Semreh nodded, a little disappointed. He'd expected something powerful, but also something he could use without having to be considered out of a fight. The fact that the technique had such limitations might be a problem.

"Remember though," Jolon continued, "This isn't a technique meant to be used over and over again. You do massive damage to yourself with it, and you'll probably only get one shot at it in combat. It needs to be fast, decisive, and lethal. Hence why we combine it with Force speed. Either way though, it's a fifty/fifty chance technique. Either you win, or your enemy does."

"Right." Semreh said, standing up. "I'll leave you to heal. Tomorrow though, we start our training."

* * *

Semreh decided that, given the recent events, now was going to be one of the few moments of down time he would have for a long time. Once he got back to his room, Semreh immediately went to the bathroom, searching for a razor with which to shave. It was starting to itch like hell, and Semreh never really thought they looked good on him.

Having found one, he searched for shaving cream, but was disappointed. Sighing, he went into the bathroom, looking at the mirror.

"_I've managed to gather dozens of planets under a_ _rebellion, but I can't get shaving cream."_ He thought with some amusement. Carefully, he began sliding the razor across, careful not to cut his skin. It was a thoroughly painful experience, made all the more painful by the fact that he was interrupted about halfway through by a knock at the door.

"Semreh!" An urgent voice called from outside. "It's Sami. We've got to go. It's an emergency!"

Semreh looked around, then looked in the mirror. He was now only half shaved, one half of his face burly mountain man, the other smooth. Taking the razor with him, he rushed out, meeting Sami.

"Wow…" She said, looking at him in surprise, then with a grin. "I'm not sure…But I think you shave both sides of the face."

"Shut up." He growled, hurrying down the hall. Using the razor, he shaved on the run."What's up?"

"The Councils starting to catch on to us. There's been a substantial increase in criminal activities all over Melida/Daan, and they know that, for whatever reason, there are less Rangers patrolling the countryside. They suspect it's because they are doing something else."

"The Council thinks that Nield is acting on his own, and using the Chasers as his own private army?"

Sami nodded, turning the corner to an enormous war room. Inside, there were several Ranger officers, all looking over an enormous holographic representation of the Melida/Daan countryside.

"Technically, we are his private army, but the national army is so large, even if Nield did revolt against the council, it would be a slaughter. It's our own system of checks and balances. If the Council were to act completely against the people's interests, Nield could at least resist them, but he could not completely displace them on his own. The deciding factor," She said, gesturing at the map, where blinking lights represented the various shielded zones. All nine now shown with operational status, each of them embedded into fortifications,

"The deciding factor is the militia, which can only be called out by both the president and a majority vote on the Council. Unfortunately, you need at least a three/fifths margin for it to be legal, and about six of the council members are either against the idea of challenging the Empire, or on its payroll." She pointed at one particular point on the map. It was a small village in northern Melida/Daan, named Inizio.

"About three hours ago," Sami declared to the assembled Chasers. "An unknown ship entered Inizio. According to recordings we intercepted from the village, they are slavers." There was a wave of grumbling and under the breath cursing from the Chasers. Sami held up her hand to silence them.

"It is still the Ranger's job to repel such attacks. Therefore, we are taking two squads, forming up with the overwhelmed militia units, and driving the slavers back."

One of the Chasers's raised a hand. "Question, how did a slaving ship break through both our navy's and the Imperial Navy's blockade?"

"I don't know." Sami said grimly, "But that's not our job. Our job is to keep the countryside safe as possible so the Council doesn't get suspicious. Now," She shouted, raising her rifle above her head, "Move out!"

The Chaser's dispersed, throwing on their signature cowls and arming themselves with blasters and stun sticks. Most of them carried the X-J Optical sniper rifles, considered one of the most accurate in the galaxy. Sami herself laced up a set of marching boots over her forest green pants. She wore a tight fitting white jumpsuit top as a shirt, and had a headband holding her short, copper hair back out of her eyes. Over the top went a shoulder holster, which she kept a slugthrower pistol in. She had another in her hand, and was carefully loading it through the breech.

"Why use a slugthrower?" Semreh asked, shouldering a blasterifle. "Why not a blaster?"

"Because, a blaster can't be silence." She stated, sliding a silencer attachment over the pistol before holstering it in her belt. "I'm assuming your coming with us?"

Semreh nodded, grabbing a few more belts of ammunition and making sure his lightsaber was securely in his belt. "What other intel do you have on the slavers?"

"There's a couple hundred of them." Sami said, "Trandoshans according to the Militia's report. They're also supposed to be better coordinated than normal, which is what makes this all so strange."

Semreh shuddered slightly, then shrugged it off. He'd fought Trandoshans before during the Clone Wars. They were mercs, fighting for the Confederacy then, but were more often slavers and hunters. They had advanced weaponry and space travel, but their superior strength, stealth, and speed made their glory seeking culture a group of tough warriors. He'd heard they'd even given clone commandos trouble.

"What do you mean?"

"Our militias are tough and well trained." She said, leading Semreh and the Chaser's out the war room and towards the hanger bay. "They've never really been beaten by slavers. Even a few hundred aren't supposed to be a big problem, as the local villages always send reinforcements. But according to the militia, these Trandoshans used flanking maneuvers and were obscenely disciplined, something the glory crazy lizards have never been. It suggests some type of leadership."

"So we find the leader, take him, her, or it out." A Chaser walking behind Semreh said as they came into the hanger. Sitting there, engines idling, were a pair of large transport speeders, enough to carry two squads of twelve Chasers and one Jedi.

"Exactly," Sami said, "Now everyone pile in and hold on. We've got a two hour drive ahead of us and I don't want to have to come back there."

* * *

C-41 and CTA-132 first did the only sensible thing for a pair of supposedly dead clones on a desperate assassination mission . They contacted the Star Destroyer in orbit, the _Regal,_ and flashed a pair of datapads identifying them as Imperial intelligence. Assuming they didn't look to deep into their records, they wouldn't see that the two agants in front of them were supposed to be dead. The Imperial officer in charge, Rear Admiral Amistad, was waiting on the bridge for them as they were escorted by a squad of stormtroopers.

"Gentlemen." He said with a curt nod. "My men tell me you are Imperial agents. Allow me to welcome you to our little operation. How may we be of service?"

C-41 watched the commander from behind his helmet, trying to look calm and collected. More importantly, his helmet hid his little jerk of surprise. Most of the time, mongrel officers like him treated clones with no small amount of contempt. To be so welcomed by one…Something was up.

"Admiral." CTA-132 nodded back. "My partner and I would like any intelligence you have, along with support. Understood?"

The Admiral's face flashed with annoyance, but a second later was covered with a benign smile. He raised his hands in a wide welcome gesture. "Of course, whatever you wish. May I ask the reason for this apparent urgency? Imperial Intelligence rarely visits backwater planets, even ones being used as a major staging area for the offensive against Separatist holdouts."

That was it. The little mongrel was scared. Scared because they were Imperial Intelligence. Scared, because he had or was doing something that he thought Imperial Intelligence would arrest him for.

"We have a situation on the surface." CTA-132 said, leaning closer. "We have reason to believe a Jedi may be planetside, fleeing Order 66."

"I see," The Amistad mused, relaxing several degrees. Obviously it wasn't a Jedi thing he was hiding, but what then?" "Well, as per command code, I can offer you any support that does not endanger the maintenance of the Melida/Daan blockade. I'll alert the garrison to be on the lookout, and as for intel, you are free to browse our databse, but we have not received any Jedi sighting reports."

"I'm sure we'll find something." C-41 growled, adding a touch of menace to his voice. "As long as your database is complete."

"Naturally. You may use any tech teams you require for such purposes."

"Oh no, we'll deal with that ourselves." CTA-132, turning his head to look at C-41. "Let's go."

**_All right. Please Read and review. P.S. I based Scout's master on Mustafarian Concept art (google image it, or look on wookiepdia) Oh, and yes, these non-Jedi orders are all canon._**


	44. Chapter 44 Battle Against the Slavers

**_Okay, I'm back. So, Here is chapter 44. Almost one year old. So, I'm going to announce an upcoming time skip. That's right. After the next chapter, I'm going to have the story skip three months forward. This is mostly because all it will show is Scout and Semreh training, the Chaser's gathering an army, and a few other things. So, I'll have one more chapter too show you what will be happening over the three months, then it will skip forward. This is mostly for the benefit of us all, since nobody once to read eight or nine chapters about Scout beating up a rock._**

Scout awoke the next morning feeling, if not fresh and awake, at the very least better now that she had a full stomach and a good night's sleep. They'd stayed under the same ledge as the day before, sleeping on the ground. Not that Scout would dream of complaining about the hard rock floor and bland meager soup, and the hot, burning sun. Nope, because she was learning under a Matukai master. Because, for once, she felt like she could not just keep up, but protect her friends.

First thing in the morning, Yasuo left their camp, and returned with a small handful of items. One included what looked like several sets of rocks tied together with vines. Handing her a pair of the sets, he said, "Let these hang off your shoulders as we walk."

Scout took them without complaint, but silently thought that, including her pack she wore on her back, she would hardly need more weight.

"Where are we going?" She asked Yasuo, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up towards the top of the canyon wall. "I'm not entirely sure I can climb that again." She raised her bandaged hands for emphasis, to which Yasuo merely looked down at her stoically.

"You can because you must." He said, tossing a small package to her. "Here, this is a gift from me. You will find it useful I'm sure." Scout looked at the small package. It was wrapped in a soft clothe like silk. Unwrapping the package carefully, she was surprised to find what appeared to be a pair of knives. The appeared to be the same thin tanto-like knives the Kilmaulsi used. She looked closely at the handle, and saw it was covered carefully in the thin steel thread, which was in turn attached to the end of the handle.

"I developed these while teaching the Kilmaulsi to fight. I discovered that by combining their lightweight bodies with their obscene amount of strength, they could travel through the treetops of their world. Most of them can jump vertically about fifteen feet. Of course, everyone falls sometimes, which is why I made these." With a blindingly flash movement, Yasuo drew a knife from his belt, hurling it at a nearby tree. It buried itself in to the hilt. Yasuo, who had the other end of the string clasped firmly in his hands, pulled causing the old tree to bend and creak before its roots shot up, pulled out by the sheer strength of Yasuo's four arms.

"It also has some surprising uses on the battlefield., in addition to being a way to survive a high falling death." He continued, pulling his knife from the tree. "With proper training, you can learn to take down prey with these knives, which is just what I taught the Kilmaulsi to do."

Scout nodded, but another question quickly bubbled up.

"Master, do you, and the rest of the Matukai, not use lightsabers?"

Yasuo turned, indicating the belt he wore around his waist. It was filled with slightly longer than average knives, and a single sheath hanging off his right hip. "I personally do not. Traditionally, the Matukai choose whatever weapons suit their style. For example," He said, drawing his sword from his sheath, "I prefer a pair of swords."

"I only see one." Scout objected, but a second later Yasuo seemed to split the sword in half, and was now holding two long slender swords that ended in a U-shaped hooked. They were so perfectly made that they looked like one single sword when held together.

"I made these myself years ago, after completing my training. It's similar to how you Jedi create your lightsabers, but we get to choose from a number of weapons."

Scout watched as Yasuo went onto a complicated set of attacks, letting the blades come inches from cutting his own body with his tight whirling style.

"So," Yasuo said suddenly, resheathing his swords into their single hilt. "I'll see you at the top." Launching himself straight up with a powerful leap, Yasuo quickly flipped up the canyon wall and out of sight.

"Aww come on!" She yelled up, "Couldn't you at least wait up!"

"Don't worry." He yelled back down. "I'll wait for you at the top." With that, the old master gave another powerful leap, and soon disappeared from Scout's sight.

An hour later, Scout found herself in an oddly familiar position. Three days ago, she had almost fallen to her death, climbing down the canyon's face. Now, three days later, she found herself hanging for her life off a ledge in about the same place as before.

"_Well, this is familiar."_ She thought, drawing the knife her master had given her from her belt and digging it into the stone wall. It bit through the stone like butter, holding her weight up. _"I don't suppose I-C will come to the rescue this time round. Speaking of which, where is the little guy?"_ Scout hadn't seen him since she'd collapsed while looking for Yasuo.

Using the knife as a handhold, Scout pulled herself up, dragging her body up the hill with her arms, while her legs scrambled to find footholds. There were none suitable to rest, So Scout simply continued, gritting her teeth against the pain in her hands. It was gonna be a long day.

* * *

Semreh felt somewhat at home in the landspeeder with the many Ranger Commandos. Maybe it was because it reminded him of a time where the Jedi could fight with a platoon of elite soldiers at their back, or maybe it was because it reminded him of the Clone Wars. Either way, Semreh felt reasonably relaxed for once.

As they neared the target, Semreh worked his way to the front of the large landspeeder, where Sami was driving wildly across the countryside. "You know, a lot of the guys back there are getting speeder-sick from your driving."

Sami wordlessly indicated for him to strap into the passenger seat, which Semreh happily did as Sami drove the speeder of a particularly large hill like a jump. The town was visible now, a series of buildings clustered closely together at the entrance to a tall, tree covered valley. There were flashes of fire on the outskirts of the town, but the most obvious sign of attack was the eight or nine light cruisers nestled just within the valley.

"This isn't good." Sami growled, stopping the landspeeder and pulling out a pair of binos. "Those are _Threstal_-class cruisers, and assuming, my intel is correct, they can hold up too fifty soldiers without breaking a sweat." She brought the pair of binoculars to her eyes, scanning. "Plus heavy weapons it looks like."

"_Threstals_?"

"An old class of picket ship." Sami stated dismissively. "But a lot were converted for piracy. They're small enough to avoid radar, but large enough to deliver boarding parties of about fifty."

"How pleasant." Semreh murmured drily, "But I've got a feeling that both the Imperial and Melida/Daan patrols would have missed them. Especially a small fleet."

"I know." The young commando agreed, getting into a crouched position as the dismounted Rangers formed up around her. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Ma'am." One of the Rangers said, standing at attention behind her. "Squads A and B are ready to move when you are. Orders?" Sami stopped for a moment, raising the scope of a rifle to her eyes to survey the town. She waited thus for several moments before speaking again.

"Take squad A, and circle around to the source of that blaster fire." She pointed to the outskirts of town. "More likely than not, that's our militia units trying to hold the line for evac. Get there, and support them."

"Yes Ma'am." He said. "And squad B."

"Squad B will stay with me and enter the town from behind. Half of us will disable the ships; the other half will enter the town and search for survivors. Semreh, you're with me."

Semreh nodded, hefting a blaster rifle from the back of the landspeeder. "Ready to move." He hesitated, then added. "Well, ready to take down some slavers."

Sami nodded, then turned to the rest of her troopers, addressing them. "Remember men, this is your planet, your land, your people, and your blood. If the trandoshans want it, they'll have to pay their own. Ura!!!" She roared at the end. Her troopers added to the screaming ululations shaking their rifles and weapons in the air. Then, just as quickly as the cheer went up, it ended, and the squads split up, all three group heading to their individual objectives.

"Nice speech." Semreh murmured, falling in line behind her.

"Helps that its slavers." She whispered back. "We have a long history with dealing with slavers. Outer and Mid Rim planets are hit all the time."

"I see." That was one thing Semreh had never been satisfied with. Even for planets that swore allegiance to the Republic, there was sometimes no protection from slavery. Worst, these slavers had turned against the Republic when the Clone Wars began, becoming a guerrilla force to be reckoned with, along with just about every pirate group and illegal bandit known.

"Should've hunted them down when we had the chance." He whispered to himself.

"What was that?" One Ranger asked from behind him.

"The slavers. We should have used the Clone Wars as an excuse to hunt them down. Would've made things so much easier."

"It's never simple though," Sami said, going into a crouched position as they reached the outskirts of the town. It was eerily quiet, with no voices or hisses indicating Trandoshans. "Quiet now, we want to find the slaves alive and rescue them, understand." They all nodded, and began moving within the shadows of the houses. Obviously, most of the slavers were off fighting the militia units, but at least a few would have been left behind to watch their merchandise.

"Maintain com silence." Sami whispered, then deactivated her comlink. "All right, let's start making some house calls." She and the squad moved quickly, surrounding the door of one of the nearby buildings. One of them began placing charges, but Semreh waved him away with a smile.

"I've got it." He planted his feet in front of the door and closed his eyes, feeling for life with the Force. There was none, but Semreh decided they needed the house for cover anyways and punched out with the Force. The door flew off its hinges and the Rangers rushed the house, carefully searching for any signs of life. There was none. They repeated this tactic several times on houses all along the street, but the place was deserted. Soon, they came to a large house that had a commanding view of the town.

"All right." Sami said after they'd swept the building, taking her comlink from her pocket and placing it on a table. "I'll set up base here, and coordinate your actions while the rest of you split up and find those people. Militia reports said large amounts of people were definitely taken prisoner, so I want them found before the Trandos can take them off planet, or kill them. Understood?"

The Rangers uraed in confirmation, quickly dispersing. They left single file, eyes flickering across the abandoned town. Every commando split up as soon as they exited the building, running helter-skelter into the alleyways, carefully checking very corner for enemies. This part of the town was evidently empty, but on the other side of town, blaster fire was intensifying. Squad A must have engaged the Trandos. Judging by the noise, they were making quite an impact.

"_But where are they keeping the townspeople. They couldn't have just disappeared_." Sami had been adamant that finding the people were their main priority. So, where were they?

Semreh suddenly felt as if he was being watched. He stopped, looking around the abandoned street, trying to portray only mild interest despite his hammering heart. If this was an ambush, he didn't want his enemy to know he was on to him. If it wasn't…well, Semreh was pretty sure it was.

Semreh reached out with the Force, and couldn't feel any squad members nearby. That meant they were at least a hundred yards away; too far away to help.

"_If I'm being watched_," he thought, "_Then that must mean I'm getting close. I wonder-"_

Semreh's thoughts were interrupted as the line of buildings to his right exploded. There was no fire, or other sign of explosives. Rather, the buildings seemed to have been simply hit by a shockwave, shaking them to their foundations. Semreh whirled as a wall of splinters and debris flew towards him like daggers. He used the Force, twisting through the air to dodge the deadly projectiles.

One particularly large piece of wood flew towards him, its jagged point aimed at his chest. He leapt backwards, sliding as he landed. Semreh whipped out his lightsaber, igniting its emerald blade and slashing through the log as though it were paper. He ended; blade angled upward, his eyes flashing from side to side in search of Trandos. There were none that he could see. Instead, standing in the wreckage, there was only a girl.

The girl reminded Semreh of one of the girls in those holovids about mountain climbing. She was rail thin, wearing a plain blue tee-shirt that hugged her skin, a pair of shorts that stopped just above her knees and her hands were covered by thick brown leather gloves. The girl's long blond hair over her face, almost blocking her bright blue eyes.

She looked about his age, certainly not past her teens. Her back was bent over, and she was gasping for air as her hands grasped and felt blindly through the rubble. She was coughing and blinded by the dust rising around her and slowly covering her clothes.

Semreh hesitated for a moment, then jumped forward, landing lightly at her side. "Hey," He said, grabbing her shoulder, "Are you all right?"

The girl looked up at him. Her eyes were a startlingly bright blue and seemed unsurprised by Semreh's rescue. Then, Semreh's vision was filled with the rough leather of one of the girl's gloves.

"Get away from me!" She yelled as her fist connected with Semreh's nose.

"_Not again." Semreh _thought, wincing as he touched his nose gingerly.

The girl was on her feet now, glaring angrily at him. "Back off man! I don't care how many of your scaly friends you bring; you're not catching me!" She cocked her arm back to throw another punch, but stopped as Semreh extended his own hand, catching her fist in a powerful Force grip.

"Would you mind!?" He yelled over the sound of blaster fire. Evidently the destruction of half a cityblock was enough to draw the Trando's attention. "I'd have liked to make this one of the few rescue missions where I don't have to shoot my way out."

They both dropped as volleys of the trandoshan fire soared over their heads, impacting with steady thuds on the ruble and ruin around them. Semreh rolled, coming up behind an overturned desk and swung his rifle down and onto his shoulder. To his right, he saw the blond girl crouching behind a wall of stone as the fire chew chunks out of it. Growling a curse, Semreh stood up, firing from the hip as he did, trying to draw fire away from the girl. It worked.

Semreh twisted as lances of energy burned past him, singing his clothes. Three of his blaster shots connected, downing their victims, but there were easily twenty of them, along with whatever had destroyed this section of the street. Not the best odds in the world.

Semreh spun on his left heel, igniting his saber and throwing away his rifle in one swift move. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girls eyes grow wide as his green saber flashed through the air around him, returning the bolts sent at him.

"_That's_ _right_." He thought in satisfaction, drawing his free hand back as he called the Force to it, charging it with electricity. "_Jedi_."

The energy launched from his hands in a long streamlined thunderbolt, cracking the air as it lanced out and spread into a large wave, blowing the front ranks of the trando squad back. The fell back, not dead, but not getting up for a time. Semreh dropped his arm, panting heavily. Unfortunately, not all of them had fallen. About five of them struggled to their feet, leveling their heavy black repeaters at him with reptilian grins.

Semreh dropped into a one handed fighting stance, his left arm still tingling numbly from his blast of the Force. He knew he couldn't deflect all their fire, but if he could hold them off long enough to find new cover…

Semreh was saved from further worry as each of the walking lizards stopped, feet suddenly dragging through deep mud. They looked down in shock as the mud continued traveling up their legs and over their entire bodies. The Trandoshans roared and hissed as the mud inexorably pulled them to the ground, sucking them into the ground as if they were in a march until they fell silent, buried.

Semreh heaved a sigh and turned. To his surprise, the girl was still crouching behind the piece of stone, but her hand was extended out towards where the Trandoshans had stood. Now there was only some type of miniature swamp.

"I-I didn't know what I was doing." She stammered, looking at her gloved hand. She was breathing heavily again and with difficulty her eyes wide in shock. Semreh rushed forward, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and helping her to her feet. He felt her heart beating against his chest as he felt her go limp.

"Why is it," Semreh murmured to himself," that every time I get to play knight on a white horse for an attractive girl, she's unconscious."

He hauled her up, throwing her over his shoulder. The Trandos were getting closer judging from the war cries and hisses coming from in front of him. Semreh grunted as he turned away, rushing backwards.

"_The girl can use the Force_!" he thought incredulously. "_Another Force user, and powerful at that_." Very powerful judging from how she'd manipulated the Earth beneath the Trandoshan's very feet. The very idea of softening and loosening that much ground from that far away…Well, it was astounding.

Semreh was running as fast as he could now. The girl was light and skinny, but Semreh was forced to use the Force just to keep from stumbling. He had to get back to where Sami was coordinating the Chasers. At the very least, she probably could recall them and cover him.

Semreh pulled out his comlink, speaking into it. "Sami? This is Semreh."

"Semreh? What the hell is going on? I'm reading a lot of blaster fire from your location. Do you not understand the concept of-"

"I'd love to hear you lecture me," Semreh interrupted, "But I've got a little situation here. I rescued a girl, but I'm being pursued." He paused for a moment, then, "Sami, she can use the Force."

"Right." Sami answered, jumping right back into her concerned commander attitude. "Squad A has subdued the Trandoshans in the front of the town and has them restrained. They'll fall back to our position and cover you. Just keep moving."

"Easy for you to say." Semreh grumbled, looking around. Then, the significance of what she said hit him. "Wait, ten rangers subdued a couple squads of Trandos."

"Fifty captured to be precise." Sami corrected pointedly. "Plus a couple dozen dead."

"Wow, you guys don't mess around." Nick said admiringly.

"We try. Now keep moving. I've a squad inbound on your position, but it will take a minute or two for them to get there. Now move, the trandos are on your-Wait a second…Semreh, lookout!"

Just as Sami yelled her warning, Semreh dropped his head, bending over so the sniper blast barely missed his head. He dropped the girl without thinking, igniting his saber in one hand and whipping his rifle around in the other. He swept the rifle across, firing as he did. It was a one handed shot, but the Force was with Semreh and three of the blasts connected with the silently approaching trandoshans.

"By the Force!" Semreh thought, dropping into a two handed defense stance as the remaining trandos, about four total, charged, abandoning their repeating rifles for the honor of facing a Jedi blade to blade. "Where the hell did they come from?" Semreh took a deep breath, meditatively focusing his mind on the point just behind his forehead, as he always did while meditating. Then, something odd happened.

He felt as though his body was lifted off the air, and suddenly, Semreh was looking down at the battle scene from above. The trandos, the scattered debris, the houses flanking him, and even the softly breathing girl behind him, flickering between consciousnesses as she watched the young Jedi. And for a moment, Semreh felt totally at peace with the world.

Then, the trandos charged. The lead one, a scaly monstrosity of scars and teeth, lunged at him with reckless ferocity, launching a downward slash meant to cleave Semreh in half from head to toe. The alien grinned, imagining the feel of his blade sliding through Semreh's torso. He was disappointed however when his blade struck the stone ground where Semreh had been standing. The impact reverberated up his muscular arm, making it shake for a moment before Semreh's saber flashed and it fell to the ground along with the blade. Semreh, now standing calmly next to the slaver, spun low, stretching his right leg out so his ankle smashed into the trando's ankle, sweeping the trandoshan's legs out from under him.

Semreh stood up again just in time to see two more running towards him while a third dropped his sword and grabbed a discarded repeater. Semreh leapt through the air, landing erect between the two surprised aliens. They turned, each of their blades slashing horizontally, one low and one high. Semreh leapt, twisting so the blades whizzed by him on both sides, one above, one below, by only a hairs length. He felt one of them catch on his robes as he landed. Semreh pulled his cloak around him, dragging the snagged blade with it. The trandoshan arm attached to it soon found itself in a bone crushing grip as Semreh, assisted with the Force, drove said sword into the ground, burying the blade a few inches down. The trando tried to pull it loose for a moment, then looked up just in time to see a green light blind his eyes.

The third trandoshan had the repeater raised now, and had aimed it at Semreh's while he had his back turned facing the second sword wielding trando. Semreh, letting the Force guide him, fell backwards like a felled tree, dodging a deathblow by the powerful creature and letting a torrent of blasterfire from the repeater sail above him and strike his enemy several times in the chest. The trando tried to swing the heavy blaster towards him, but Semreh was already rolling into a smooth somersault that brought him up right next to the struggling slaver. Semreh casually swing his arm, sending the trando flying with a Force powered backhand to the reptile's long neck.

It landed several yards away, groaning as it tried to get up. Semreh raised a hand, about to send a jolt of electricity running through his body, when he stopped, and lowered his arm. Without Jolon there to heal him, using anymore lightning was too risky. He could hardly fight with his arm slowly eroding beneath him. Slowly, he came back to his senses, letting his meditative stance fall.

"_Wow_." He thought, closing his eyes, remembering the power he'd felt just moments before. _"I've never done that before."_ The overhead view he'd felt had given him, not only a 360 degree view, but also something close to godlike speed and strength. He'd certainly never used the Force to add power to his strikes like that.

Unfortunately, the trandoshans were not as cautions as Semreh. After only a moments rest, Semreh watched in horror. Behind him, the girl was slowly coming to, groaning as she did. Semreh decided that, even if he could go into the god mode meditative stance he'd achieved moments before, trying to protect her at the same time might be too much. Throwing the girl over his shoulders, Semreh ran.

Well, he tried to, but fighting his way through the city and using that much of the Force seemed to have drained him. Semreh took two steps, stumbled, and fell on one knee, the girl rolling off his back.

"_No_ _way_." He thought grimly, listening to the trandos hissing and roaring behind him. "_No_ _way_ _I_ _die_ _now_!" Semreh grabbed the girls arm, trying to drag her back. Her beanpole body was extremely light, but Semreh just didn't have it in him. He managed to drag her a few feet, but the trandos were on him now, and Semreh felt a clawed hand grasp his shoulder, long nails digging into his shoulder. He turned, slashing the trando with his saber, but another had now grabbed the girl out of his other hand, and was dragging her away screaming.

Semreh tried to get to her, but stumbled as another clawed hand grabbed his ankles. He landed hard, his face cracking on the ground. The young Jedi turned over groggily and looked up as what looked like three different scaly fists flew towards his face. There was a sudden flash of light, then everything went dark.

**_I'm repeating the message above because it is very important THERE WILL BE A THREE MONTH TIME SKIP AFTER THE NEXT CHAPTER. I'M DOINING THIS SO NOBODY GETS TO BORED TO KEEP READING. Thanks for reading. Please review._**


	45. Chapter 45 Before the Beginning

**_All right, so this, being the last before the time skip, is long to the point of...well, it is really really long. After this, each of the characters will pretty much be doing their thing during the three month time skip. _**

Bren stood at the bridge of the Acclamator they'd captured, looking across the asteroid field where thousands of droids and organic workers were tirelessly at work on the rocky surfaces. The asteroid they'd jumped to was not uncharted, though it was obviously located on the fringes of the Outer Rim. After asking around a little bit and accessing the Acclamator's substantial information database, he'd located the fields named.

It was called the Drup Asteroid Field, and according to the database, was comprised of a unique ore. Useless when it came to mining and manufacturing, but it had one unique characteristic that made it, Bren realized, ideal for their situation. Much of the ore in the field disrupted ships sensors, essentially blinding them. In fact, Bren had realized that the three large orbs he had glimpsed several times through the thick rocks were not simply distant asteroids of prodigious size, but rather the planets Drub I, II, and III. Uninhabitited and virtually ignored, but they held enough mass to pull the rest of the asteroids into their orbit.

"Commander," Bolt murmured, suddenly appearing at his side, "Work is going well. Hangers three and four are at fifty percent capability, and hanger one is already set, along with our command post."

"Good work." Bren said approvingly. "Start setting up the main asteroid with exterior sensors…But keep it discreet."

"What about the edges of this field?" Bolt asked. "If we add sensors and perimeter outposts to the edges of the field, we could use them to monitor the entirety of the field and detect enemies before they even enter the field."

"Do we have any pilots with ships large enough to carry the tech, but small enough to make it through?"

"I'll check." Bolt answered, already turning towards the bridge's exit.

Bren hung his head for a moment, trying to summon a memory of Bolt where he had smiled. There wasn't. As long as Bren had known him, maybe ten years, the man had always been a cold soldier. When the difficult decisions had come up, Bolt was the one who picked the ruthless and pitiless decisions, all without a thought of anxious indecision.

Sonya was similar, but he had known her much longer, since he was a young college professor of twenty nine or thirty. She had been a student of his at the University of Corellia, and was the sharpest mine he'd ever seen, surpassing even his intellect. Sonya was, to put it simply, a genius of logic. She saw the straightest way from point A to point B without any moral detours. Of course, she was different from Bolt. She listened to her conscious, mostly due to Bren's influence.

The two of them had studied together for a few years at the university before Bren was given a fascinating opportunity from a man claiming to have a special job for him. The man evidently needed to destroy a rather large space yacht that, as far as they could tell, was to heavily armored to be damaged with anything short of a turbolaser. Bren had been offered an enormous sum and, making a teacher's salary, he had accepted.

However, when presented with the plans for the space yacht, he was forced to admit that he was stumped. In the end, he had been forced to seek out the advice of one of his own students; Sonya. She had looked at it for three minutes, then come back, pointing out three places on the yachts hull where simple explosives could crack the hull. The plan had worked, and the two of them left the university the next day.

Gradually, Bren and Sonya had gathered a group of mercenaries to them, carrying out small missions for pay that made his former teaching position look like a lemonade stand. Of course, as the size of their unit grew, so did their fame. Before long, they'd been approached by the Separatists, who offered him command of their forces on Drongar. They'd accepted, and unwittingly agreed to several months of hell. Their multi species army had fought for several months in that fungi covered jungle, before the end of the war had forced them to flee deep into the heavily wooded parts of the planet. Then, a few months later, Semreh and Scout had come and pulled them out.

Bren really didn't know why he still followed those kids. True, they'd paid them, but not nearly enough for as much as he's done. On more than one occasion, Bolt had confronted Bren about this, displaying his displeasure. Well, if not displaying it, he voiced it. He had only done this once, being absolutely loyal to Bren.

Bren supposed he owed the two something, since they had saved his army from total destruction. Still, was that enough for he and his mercenaries to join what, Bren felt, was a lost cause in the making. Perhaps it was because he, never having met the Jedi, had been placed under their influence. Still, Bren knew the reason he kept following them. Deep down he knew. Bren was, for lack of a better word, an idealist. He believed in their fight, just like, after years of fighting the Republic and seeing its corruption, he'd come to believe in the Separatist cause. Because, unlike Bolt or Sonya, he needed to believe in this cause as well.

"_Some merc I_ _am_." He thought ruefully. He turned to the crew of the Acclamator.

"Ensign Keys." He said, addressing one of the men in the command pit to his left. "Plot a course for the main asteroid. Prep for attachment to the surface and docking procedure."

"Aye Commander." The ensign confirmed, already making adjustments.

Bren liked these new men. The Commonality had provided him with naval specialist and soldiers of all species to replace his own men at the controls. Meanwhile, his own troopers were busy training new recruits brought in by the Chaser's. They had so far been very successful, able to set up underground systems by which they smuggled out criminals and enemies of the Empire to their asteroid base via numerous smuggler cartels and Commonality sources.

The Commonality had been enormously helpful with creating their alliance. Kalasaad Woztu, in addition to now paying Bren and his mercenaries with his own substantial fortune, had been discreetly pouring ships and supplies into their base. The rest of the Commonality had been reluctant to help, but Woztu was also attempting to convince them to take a more active role in their secret preparations. So far, no dice. The only other planets to add their fleet to the Alliance were Vorzydiaks of Vorzyd V and IV, and the Hrakians, a near human species that lived on the Commonality planet Hraki. Their fleets commander, a man named Drex Oodian, had arrived with a fleet of three _Invincible_-class battleships along with complementary fighter squadrons of Z-95 _Headhunters_ and _Cloakshape_ starfighters.

The _Invincible_-class battleships were enormous capital ships that were cheap to produce and easy to operate. With an average crew of 6000, it was armed with twelve turbolaser cannons, thirty quadlaser cannons for anti starfighter defense, six concussion missile tubes, and six tractor beams. They looked like they'd been patched together from pieces of scrap and were slow as sleepy Hutts, but they acted as heavy hitters and carriers during battle.

Captain Drex Oodian himself was an interesting man. Being a Hrakian, he had pale golden orange skin and hair that only added to his, what Bren assumed were, good looks. When he had first arrived, he had offered his help in any way possible, and Bren had been more than happy to accept. Even as he spoke, Oodian's ships were being painted the deep brown color of the asteroid field to prepare them.

"Sir." A hesitant voice said from the command pit to his left. Bren turned, and saw a young Vorzydiak officer was looking up at him from the pit. "I know this is out of bounds, but I would like to make a suggestion."

"Continue."

"Well sir, I believe we should maybe pick a name for this ship." The young officer gestured at the command deck. "Perhaps…As a ceremonial opening for our alliance."

Bren considered it for a moment, then nodded. "What's your name?"

"Lieutenant Selan Waz." The Vorzydiak said stiffly, standing at attention.

"Well Lieutenant," Bren declared, now addressing the whole bridge. "While I admire your idea, I think the Jedi have a right to name it." He shrugged. "After all, they captured it."

The crew murmured in agreement, and Bren smiled. "Still Lieutenant, since we are the ones driving this thing, how about a temporary name. Any ideas?"

Selan Waz thought for a moment, scratching his green chin with one small yellow fingernail. "Well," He finally said after much deliberation. "The Jedi are trying to fight the New Order, right? They want to make a better place for us all. How about…_Road to the_ _Dawn_" He shrugged, then hung his head, as if embarrassed. But Bren only chuckled a bit. It was so poetic, it seemed ridiculous. Still, Bren like this young Vorzydiak.

"The _Road to the Dawn _it is." He said cheerfully, turning once again to the command window. "Yes, I think that is a damn good name." He turned to the ensign again. "Well lieutenant, take the _Road_ about and attach to Asteroid One. We're going to be here a while."

* * *

Fless knew the way the world worked. Money ran everything. You could get anything with money, even soldiers. The trick was finding reliable soldiers. Mercs were all well and good, but the goal was to find people with a grudge against the Empire, people who were former Seps, criminals, and political prisoners. And for that, the best way to find them, was to hire other people. In this case, Fless had decided that the Bounty Hunter guilds would be adequate.

"This is a small bounty." The man running the small guild station on Darlyn Boda said, looking over Fless's datapad. Particularly for this many people. Alive no less."

"Oh," Fless added, leaning forward. "That's not for the lot. That's for each that's brought in."

"Ah," The man gasped, his eyes widening. "Well, that's very different. Yes, I think we can do business. Very good business from the looks of it."

Fless leaned back in his seat and smiled. The good thing about being a member of a special ops unit was that they taught you all kinds of ways to get around security, including bank security. The fact that this guild man would probably spend the money right away meant that he would never be tracked, and guilds like this were also sworn to secrecy. Nobody would ever know he was here.

"You understand though," Fless began, "That all of these bounties need to be alive? No disintegrations?"

"As you wish." The man said distractedly. "And all bounties will be processed here, awaiting your next visit. Is that satisfactory?"

"Actually," Sten, Fless's partner, said from a chair next to Fless. "We have a transport ready to extract them as soon as their captured. You may take them to the local spaceport and leave them to us."

The man nodded. Another plus of using the guilds to gather recruits; no questions asked. The fact that many of the remaining high ranking Sep officials and soldiers were also known criminals helped. The guild probably thought they were just patriotic citizens of the Empire, not men looking to recruit allies.

"Well," The man said, pushing his seat back as he got to his feet. "I believe our work is done here. Thank you gentlemen for coming."

"The pleasure was ours." Sten said before adjusting his suit and leaving the room. Fless shot a wild grin at the man, then left, leaving the man confused.

* * *

"Governor," CTA-132 said, standing at attention before the private holocrom in their ship, "We are on the verge of finding these two padawans. Why divert us now?"

The miniature Tarkin stood before them, impeccably clean in his uniform. "There are certain inequities that have been reported regarding Rear Admiral Amistad. It would only take a few months to gather evidence against him."

"Yes," C-41 protested. "But why us, and why now? It's very obvious he's hiding something, but how are his infractions more important than rouge Jedi?

"To be honest, I don't care what his crimes are, but they cannot be allowed. There is no outside force that can challenge us, but laxness will erode the Empire from the inside out. Besides, your job, as good soldiers of the Empire, is to obey orders. Yes?"

C-41 paused, conflicted. Once again, C-41 was reminded of the regime change, and how, technically, he had been made to serve a Republic, not an Empire. Still orders were orders.

"Sir, what irregularities are we to look into?"

Tarkin shrugged. "There have been reports of missing troops, ships, and supplies. Plus, the Admiral has been caught receiving transmissions from unknown sources throughout the system." Tarkin looked at his fingernails, as though bored.

"We don't know where these transmissions are coming from, but they are certainly somewhere in the system. As Melida/Daan and its surrounding space is being used as a transit for fleets moving to engage Outer Rim Separatist holdouts, there are many ships passing through, and many of these have reported strange ships moving through, flying neither Sep or Imperial colors."

"Making these unknown ships an independent group." CTA-132 finished. "What type were they?"

"_Threstal_-class by all accounts." Tarkin answered. "However, Amistad himself has not reported them, despite being in the position to multiple times. So, he is either involved, or incompetent. Both are crimes."

"Understood sir." C-41 said, standing at attention. "Understand that, for an Admiral, it will take some time to gather evidence."

"I have faith in you two." Tarkin added, his hologram already flickering out of existence.

* * *

Tarkin turned off his communiqué, stepping away from his desk in a huff. Sending two of his best agents on something as mild as an internal investigation…It infuriated him. The orders had come from the Emperor himself, and Tarkin suspected that Armand Isard had something to do with it. After all, whoever captured the most Jedi would garner the most favor in the Imperial court.

However, Tarkin had other reasons for wanting to capture these two Jedi, and he briefly wondered whether Isard had discerned his alternate reasons.

"_Preposterous_." He thought to himself. "_The records of the Temple were classified to almost everyone, and I'm sure I erased those particular documents myself."_

Still, Tarkin was forced to admit ignorance of the Force. Perhaps the Emperor had found out through those means, and was acting on his own volition. He shuddered a little. The Emperor would never have let him get this far if he knew, unless he saw reason to let Tarkin's agents continue their pursuit. Perhaps he was preparing his own agents for the race.

The Governor let his hand fall to the desk again and was tempted to contact his two clone agents and telling them to forget his orders and hunt down those Jedi on the planet below. Then, he stopped. If Palpatine found that his orders were not carried out, it would be the end for Tarkin. Sighing, Tarkin turned sharply and strode from the room. He had work to do.

* * *

C-41 and CTA-132 sat together in the main cabin of their freighter, deep in thought. The mercs were also there, each wrapped in stoic silence. Somewhere in the back of the freighter, a kid was crying, and the girl could be heard beneath the noise, trying to soothe it.

"We can't just stay cooped up on this ship for weeks." Gerik growled, finally breaking the silence. "The squad and I should head planet side, hide out for a few weeks."

C-41 nodded. "I agree. You men should take the freighter and find a place to hide out down there. Once your set up, lie low, and wait for us to get there before moving."

"Why not let us continue the hunt?" Radlir questioned.

"Because this is and Imperial operation and will be commanded by Imperials." CTA-132 answered sharply.

"Besides," C-41 added. "What do you care? You get paid either way."

The mercs exchanged looks of annoyance. Clearly, they hated being left on the planet to twittle their thumbs. Then, Gerik shrugged. "Fine," He said, "Contact us when you're ready to move. We'll keep out of sight till then."

"And the kids," C-41 interrupted, "Take them too. Remember, we need them as leverage."

Gerik nodded, fingering the weapons he had at a belt around his waist. "With pleasure."

* * *

Deep beneath Coruscant, Jaycon Sha was hallucinating. Of course, he no longer remembered his name. His mind buzzed, but it was nonsensical, unorganized, and mad, broken by the crackling electicity.

_Snapping electricity, burning jaws, chains in my blood._

_So much pain. Make it go away, please! Got to run, got to go, got to hide. Hide from the pain, hide from the man giving it._

The crackling stopped suddenly, giving way to silence. Vader stepped from the shadows, towering over the decrepit Emperor besides him.

"He has proven quite resilient."

"The Makutai always are." The Emperor mused. "But his mind has almost broken." He turned to the interrogator on station. "Nobody has asked him any questions?"

The man shook his head. "No sir, and one of the Inquisitors has been on station twenty four seven to monitor his responses."

"Good, good." The Emperor rasped, almost purring. "Now, I want you to begin the second phase. Reconstruction."

"Yes milord." The Inquisitor turned to his fellows, who were already scurrying to gather the various instruments.

"Reconstruction?" Vader murmured.

"Yes," The Emperor whispered. "Jaycon Sha is dead, and we are taking the shell of his body, and creating a weapon designed to hunt Jedi."

"Like Grievous?" Vader added.

"No, Grievous was nothing compared to this. Nor are we recreating his body in such a literal fashion. We've taken a man, stripped away the civilization, and made a creature with the intelligence of a man, and the sheer raw brutality of an animal." The Emperor turned, slowly walking from the room. Vader turned, but looked back for a moment.

Somewhere deep inside Vader, Anakin Skywalker looked at the man, and felt deep wrenching pity for the man. Of course, Vader felt nothing but contempt. He was meant to hunt the Jedi, not this broken monster. Vader himself had already humbled him, shearing off the left side of the man's face, and his forehead, and still the Emperor was sending him.

"Lord Vader, are you coming?"

Vader turned sharply on his heel, exiting the room in a flurry of cape and armor, leaving the remains of the man behind him. Either way, he was the one at his Master's side, not the one in the torture shackles.

* * *

Semreh awoke among the ruins of the town, and immediately jumped up, fist raised in a fighting stance. He looked around for the tranodshans who had captured him, but only saw a group of Chasers standing around him. He looked back over his shoulder and glimpsed Sami behind him, injecting a small needle into his shoulder.

"Bacta." She explained as she withdrew the needle. "You took a small blaster shot to the shoulder."

"Feels more like I got pummeled to death." Semreh groaned and pushed himself to his feet.

You kinda were." Sami commented, jerking a finger back to a squad of trandoshans being cuffed by Chasers. "These guys were the ones after you, so my team took them into custody. Found the prisoners too. They were being loaded onto the trando ships…"

"Good job." Semreh said. "How'd you defeat so many?"

Sami hefted a small container from her belt. "Gas canister. It creates fumes that shut down a trandos brain, knocking them into something comparable to a comatose state." She lowered the container, reattatching it to her belt. "Like I said, we've dealt with trandos before. Used gas masks to protect ourselves, but when we launched them to save you, you must have inhaled some. You, and the girl."

Semreh suddenly remembered. "That girl!" he exclaimed, head searching back and forth. "Where is she?"

"Easy buddy." Sami calmed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "She's all right, but she inhaled the gas too." Sami jerked a thumb behind her. "She'll be out for a while."

He saw the girl he'd saved before curled up behind Sami, watched by a pair of Chasers who were monitoring her life signs and applying bacta to various scrapes and injuries. She looked roughed up, but her chest was lightly rising and falling, a sign that she was still alive. Semreh heaved a sigh of relief.

"So, is she someone you know?"

"What?" Semreh answered, not understanding Sami's question.

"You know, a Jedi. " Sami waved her hands as though swinging a lightsaber. "Can she use the Force?"

"Oh, she can definitely use the Force," Semreh said, looking down at the unconscious girl. "But she's no Jedi I've ever met. It's…strange."

"Very strange." Sami agreed. "But wait till you see what other surprises I have for you." She waved a finger at Semreh, indicating for him to follow her.

Semreh did so, and they walked through the town for about a hundred yards. The townspeople, both the surviving militia and refugees, were going about the town, gathering supplies and helping the injured. A large part of the town had been destroyed, and many people were obviously depressed about how to rebuild.

"The slavers detonated explosives set throughout the city." Sami explained. "Still haven't quite figured out why.

Semreh, thinking about it, realized that it didn't make any sense for the slavers to draw attention to themselves by blowing up the whole city. Still, perhaps it was one of those mindless trando rampage things.

"Anyways," Sami continued, finally having arrived outside of what looked like a simple bombed out building. "We have a prisoner in here that we thought might interest you." She stepped inside, and revealed what looked like a foursome of Chasers training their guns on a heap of what looked like clone trooper armor.

"You know how we said the trandos were unusually organized. Well, they were being commanded by this guy."

The man had the armor of a clone commander, including the skirt-like kama hanging from his waist and the many weapons at his belt. His helmet was off, lying discarded at his side, revealing his face which was marred by horrible burn scaring across every inch. The clone's face was calm and collected, but at the same time gave off a cold fury that made Semreh uneasy.

"He was found organizing the trandos for a counter attack. Took three Chasers to restrain him." One of the Chasers grimaced and shifted his weight as if walking on an injured leg.

Semreh felt shocked. "You mean a clone was commanding the trandos?"

"Yes."

Semreh was speechless. He'd known many clones in his lifetime. They were efficient, brave to the point of recklessness, and followed their orders to the letter. Still, he'd never expected one of them to join with a group of slavers.

"What will you do with him?" Semreh asked, looking sideways at Sami.

"What we do with all criminals captured in Chaser operations. Take them back to base, and throw them in a cell."

"But don't you see what you have here?" Semreh protested, gesturing at the unconscious clone. "Proof that the Empire is making strikes against Melida/Daan. This could potentially motivate your council-"

"Or convince them to do nothing." Sami countered. "Either way, we can't move without Nield's permission. He is the President, and he'll know what to do." She nodded at the Chasers, who hauled the clone up and dragged him from the house towards where the Chaser convoy was loading up the rest of the trandos.

"You're taking them all in?"

"Of course." Sami answered. "Intelligence wins battles, and these trandos are probably full of it."

Semreh felt he could agree, even if he found just being in the same speeder as the trandos distasteful. The fact was that tranoshans had a nasty habit of being used as mercenaries. If the Imperials were doing just that, and taking slaves…Well, not even the Council could argue against war. Still, why would the Empire need so many slaves?

* * *

Semreh returned to a very angry and very annoyed Jolon. As the convoy was lowered into the Chaser's underground base with an audible thud by an enormous platform elevator, Semreh winced as Jolon pulled him out of the landspeeder by his wounded shoulder.

"Is that really necessary?" He protested, straightening himself.

"What were you thinking? Running off to play hero…You fool, you could have been killed!" Jolon examined the wound, peeking beneath the bandages, already harnessing a slither of the Force and weaving it into his wound.

"This was important." Semreh bit back angrily. "Maybe a very positive step, both for our rebellion, and the Jedi."

"What do you- What is that?" He said, looking down at Semreh. "Did you harness the Force?"

Semreh looked confused, but he felt it too now, a thundering roar in a quiet night, like being in a dark hallway, and then hearing a terrifying bump in the night.

"It wasn't me." He said remembering the girl. "But that's what I need to talk to you about. There's-"

He stopped as the landspeeder to their right rose ten feet into the air, then was hurled against the wall of the base, leaving a sizable dent in the wall. A whirlwind of wind rose from the opposite side of the platform, tossing supplies and people about. Semreh jumped up, followed closely by Jolon.

"_Shoot_." He thought_. "She must have woken up_."

The whirlwind was thick and dusty, resembling a tornado with what looked like a small hunched over figure in the center. Semreh could feel sheer animal terror radiating from the center.

"What is that!?" He yelled over the noise, already raising both his hands to throw up a shield of the Force. He contained the biting wounds, protecting the Chaser's in the room and dragging those trapped in the vortex to safety.

"A friend." Semreh warned. "Don't hurt her, just give me a moment."

Jolon paused, seriously considering extinguishing the life he felt within the swirling tornado of Force energy, then nodded. "Go."

Semreh stepped forward, shielding his mouth from the dust with the bend of his arm, eyes squinting. The vortex honestly seemed to be attracting the dirt and earth, and Semreh's body was being gradually pummeled by hundreds of pebbles and rocks.

"_Okay_." He thought. "_Underground base is not a great place_ _for this_ _to_ _happen._"

He threw up his own shield of the Force and was shocked when the girls whirling energy tore it to pieces. He grimaced. Semreh's shield wasn't strong enough, and the girl was to strong. Semreh did the only thing he could do; He reached out with the Force, touching the girl's terrified mind with his own, like a friendly hand on her shoulder.

"_It's all right. I'm your friend."_ He tried to project into her mind. He felt her pull away, then, come back to him hesitantly. Then, something clicked. It was as if their minds were a pair of puzzles, and they had finally connected. Her fear melted away, replaced by a calm assurance and only mild aprehension

Mere moments later, the dust fell to the ground, clattering on the steel platform at their feet. In the center of the dirt and dust, the girl was standing, her blond hair lying perfectly on her shoulders. She was looking at him, no fear or anger in her blue eyes and had a gloved hand resting on her hip. Somehow, due to their connection, he felt her question even before she spoke.

"Are you a Jedi?" She asked bluntly.

"Yes." Semreh answered without hesitation. "Yes I am."

She nodded coolly, eyeing the Chasers who were carefully flanking her. She barely batted an eye at their rifles. However, when Jolon roughly brushed by Semreh and walked towards her, she tensed visibly.

"What's with the old dude?" She growled. Jolon didn't even break his stride as he advanced, reaching out with both hands, placing one on her forehead and another at her shoulder, forcing her down with the sheer power of the Force.

The girl launched a powerful wave of the Force at him, but the old master simply channeled it through his body and turned the power back on her. For maybe thirty seconds, they stood thus, the girl glaring up at Jolon as he closed his own eyes in focus. Semreh waved away a few of the Chasers who were about to step forward and intervene. This was between them.

Semreh could feel them struggling in the Force. The girl's sheer power in the Force could easily overwhelm a normal Jedi, but Jolon had, as he put it, a natural affinity for the Force. Her power was overturned by his skill, like watching a thug fight a skilled martial artist. Still, the girl's massed attacks were making Jolon sweat, wearing down the old man slowly.

Finally, Jolon stepped back, shaking his head roughly before gazing down at the girl. "You are startlingly powerful." He admitted. "But you lack control girl, and that will kill, not only you, but others around you."

"I know." She murmured, a look of distance worry flashing across her face. "I've been moving from place to place for as long as I can remember. Everywhere I go…Earthquakes, rockslides, everything seems to happen to me. To people around me."

"Ahhh," Semreh nodded. "That explains the destruction in the town. It wasn't the trandos. It was-"

"It was the girl." Sami finished, letting her hand rest on the handle of her pistol. "Is she…dangerous?"

"I don't know." Semreh answered, looking at Jolon. He didn't answer, just stared at the girl.

"Well," Sami continued. "We live, ah…underground, so earthquakes could be a problem. And Nield won't-"

"She won't be a problem." Jolon interrupted suddenly still staring at the girl. "I will train her."

There was silence. Then Semreh yelled, "You'll what!?"

"Hey!" The girl struggled to her feet, "Who says I want to be trained by you!?" Her emphasize on you matched her annoyed glare. "Besides, I'm gonna move on. Got places to go, people…well, places to go." She thrust her hands into her pockets and spread her legs into a sturdy stance.

"_Ohhh_," Semreh thought a little nervously. "_Super powered teen girl versus a stubborn old man."_

"You don't have a choice." Jolon said finally. "I can't seal your strength. It's too wild and untamed, even for me. The only way you'll ever manage to control your Force powers is training." He stepped forward, poking her in the forehead with a chuckle. "The only other option is that you become an old hermit who lives as far away from other people as possible."

The girl looked away from him, biting her lip. A strand of her hair fell in front of her face, blocking her eyes. Semreh felt for her. She was a person trapped by her own innate abilities; trapped by something she couldn't control. Just like the Jedi had been trapped by their own strength in the Force.

"Enough." He said, stepping forward, raising his arms between them.

Jolon turned to him, glaring. "Semreh, you have no idea how dangerous someone this powerful can be when not trained."

"And I'm not against it." Semreh fired back. "But it needs to be her choice, not ours."

"Were you given a choice?" Jolon asked, a sad smile crossing his face before drifting away. "Do any of us really have a choice?"

Semreh thought for a moment before answering. He had a point. "No, but if she's going to train with you, she'll be drawn into this fight. Into this war. She has a right to choose."

The girl now, looking thoroughly confused, reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a small electronic datapad. "When you two are done discussing the 'girls' decision, tell me. I'll be over here." She turned, already plugging a pair of headphones into the datapad. She sat, knees curled up to her chest as she activated the datapad. The muffled sound of music came from her earphones as she sat, listening.

"Is she serious?" Jolon asked, his voice a little awed. "What is that?"

"It's called Flaunt." Semreh said. "Some of the padawans used to listen-"

"I don't need a lesson on music." Jolon snapped. "I mean, why is she just sitting there?"

"Oh, I don't know." Semreh admitted. "Why don't you let me talk to her?"

Jolon paused, then shrugged. "Just make sure your back your quarters before night. We need to talk about your…hero problem." He turned, his robes snapping around his ankles as he strode down a hallway. Semreh turned the other way, plopping down by the girl.

"You like Flaunt?" He asked nonchalantly, trying to idly make conversation.

"Why not just talk about the weather if your going to make useless chitt-chatt?" She growled, pulling off her headphones. Semreh winced.

"Okay, so you're not happy. I can understand. So, what were you doing in that town?"

The girl paused a moment before answering. "I was passing through. Most of the time, I stowaway on ships to go from planet to planet. I stopped there to grab a bite to eat, but those lizards landed before I could move along."

"Well," Semreh said, getting to his feet. "We've got food, and a place to sleep. You want to stay for a while." The girl angrily opened her mouth, but Semreh interrupted.

"You don't have to stay or train." He insisted, raising his hands before she could protest. "But I think we owe you a meal and a bed."

The girl stared up at him for several long moments, obviously suspicious. Then she stood up, letting Semreh help her get to her feet. "Normally," She said a little hesitantly, "People tell their hosts their names when they are invited to stay."

"That's generally how it works, yes."

"Well," She said, smiling at her. She seemed at ease and trusting around him. "My name is Tara."

* * *

Semreh led Tara through the base, giving her a tour of its many hidden nooks and crannies. The base was extensive, consisting of several hidden spaceports and garages, armories filled with weapons, and, in the lower levels, a combination of prison cells and rooms.

"And here," Semreh said, opening the door to his own dormitory. "Is where you'll stay."

"Really!" She said, stepping inside and looking around. "This is awesome!"

Semreh was surprised to hear that she was actually sincere. He looked around himself, to see whether he'd missed something beneath the dusty cracked concrete, the lumpy malformed couch in the corner, and the dim lights that substituted actual sunlight. But no, it was all the mediocrity he remembered.

"I haven't slept indoors for a while." She explained after seeing Semreh's questioning glance. "Unless caves and old shacks count. Do you have electricity?"

"Yeeeah…" Semreh said, a little wierded out. And sad. Deep down, Semreh felt a small amount of…not pity, but sadness for Tara.

"Sweet," She said, already reclining on the couch. "I like sleeping on the good old dirt, but a couch feels good to."

"I guess so. Is there anything-"

"Got any food!" Tara said excitedly, bolting upright. "I'm so hungry I could eat a Hutt."

* * *

"I truly can't believe it." Nield said, his voice rising in horror.

"It can't be possible." Daichi agreed. "Logically, this defies just about everything I know about physics."

"But where is she putting it all!?" Semreh asked in amazement.

He had taken Tara down to the cafeteria, where the many Chasers and soldiers under Nield's command sat and ate during their breaks. Of course, none of them had expected this. Tara, upon reaching the front of the line, had ordered what Semreh believed was the largest pile of food he'd ever seen. She then proceeded to steadily wolf it down, without stopping for more than a few seconds. It was, in Semreh's opinion, the most impressive sight he'd ever seen.

"Thish ish delicshus." Tara exclaimed through a mouthful of food before swallowing. "What's this?" She said, picking up a plate of gelatinous goo with what looked like chunks of white meat on the top.

"It's a food for Mon Calamari." Semreh said, watching as she opened her mouth and gulped it down. He reached forward to stop her but was too late. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then gave a small belch and smiled.

"Got anymore!" She asked, holding out her plate.

"How are you so thin?"

"Oh, I haven't eaten actual food like this in forever." She said cheerfully, already sizing up an entire cake with her rail thin arms. "Most of the time, I only eat what I can forage or borrow."

"You mean steal." Daichi accused pointedly.

Tara shrugged nonchalantly before returning to her plates. "Fish's got to swim, girl's got to eat."

* * *

Semrhe walked back into the hallway with Nield and Daichi, already deep in conversation with them. They met Sami, who was leaning against the wall, still dressed in her muddy field uniform.

"So, that's the new Force sensitive." She said, looking at Tara with interest. "Can't say she looks to impressive. Doubt she could even lift a blaster."

"I agree. And I fear she isn't mature enough to be trained." Daichi agreed, shaking his head. "Did you hear about how she casually talked about stealing?"

"Get your head out of your orifices." Nield rebuked sharply. "You know scavenging is a useful skill for a soldier."

"You're talking about her like she's a weapon." Semreh challenged with a step forward.

"You said she was obscenely powerful in the Force. If that's true, we'll need her in the coming war."

"Will you force her to fight?" Semreh growled bristling. "Drive her into battle like some type of animal? I can't support that!"

"That's not at all what I'm suggesting." Nield argued, a little shocked at the accusation. "But why did you bring her here if not so that she could help."

"She needed a place to stay." Semreh answered simply. "I couldn't just send her off. Plus, her power in the Force is…wild. Very uncontrollable. Without training, she could cause untold devastation."

"Ah, so this is Jolon's idea."

"Mostly," Semreh admitted grudgingly, "But I don't see why we can't keep her around for a while. We owe her-"

"She destroyed an entire town. What exactly do we owe her again?"

"Listen; just give me some time." Semreh pleaded. "She'll train, then she can leave or stay with us." He looked up at Nield. "Please, just give her some time."

The three leaders were silent for several minutes. Semreh waited patiently, letting them think. Finally, Sami spoke.

"I saw what she did in the garage. If that is loosed on the world without control…well, it wouldn't be good. On the other hand," Sami said, turning to Nield. "If that could be controlled against the Empire…"

"We'd have the advantage." Daichi agreed finally, crossing his arms. "And with the Empire sending assassins to hunt down rebellious leaders, we'll need all the allies we can get."

"All right, and just in time." Nield said, watching as Tara approached from across the room. "We'll talk about all this later, including the problem we've got in the basement."

"The clone?" Sami asked.

"Yes, but keep it quiet. We're going to keep the whole slaver thing undercover until the time is right. We can't tip our hand to the Empire before the Commonality and the rest of our allies are ready."

"Fine." Semreh nodded. Nield was the politician after all. "We'll wait."

"Hey guys!" Tara greeted happily. She seemed as tiny and thin as ever, despite the meal she'd just consumed. "Who's the suit?"

Semreh winced and looked at Nield, but the president only laughed. "Oh, I like her. Reminds me of-" He stopped, his face falling. Semreh saw a flash of pain across his face, and Sami moved closer to him, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Anyways," Nield continued, his face stoic, but welcoming. "You're welcome to stay here for as long as you need, but please, try not to destroy the base. I've got good memories of these tunnels." He turned, leaving the room followed by a glaring Daichi and worried Sami.

"What was that about?" Tara asked, interest evident in her voice.

"Dunno." Semreh admitted. "But I've got to ask you something-"

"If this is about me training with the old man, don't worry. I'll try it."

"Really," Semreh said in surprise. He'd never expected her say yes that quickly. "What changed your mind?"

"Well, to be honest, the reason I move from place to place is because I can't control my powers. If I could…well, I could live like this every day."

"All right!" Semreh said, punching the air with a fist. "I'll tell Jolon. He'll be thrilled."

* * *

"Just so you know, I am not thrilled." Jolon growled once they were out of earshot. Tara had fallen asleep almost as soon as she hit the couch. She was sprawled out and snoring loudly as her headphones continued to blare that Flaunt music. Jolon had subtly indicated for Semreh to meet him outside in the hallway and they soon found themselves arguing just outside the door.

"Well, you wanted to train her."

"But I barely want to be in the same room as her." Jolon shot back. "Why did you invite her to stay in our room?"

"Calm down." Semreh whispered, pointing at the door. "It's only temporary. Sami's setting up one of the old rooms for her. And this way, you can start training her."

Jolon glared at him angrily, looking like a vine cat with bad toothache. "Fine, I'll train her and you. It goes against every Jedi rule I know, but it's not as though that's stopped me before."

"Thank you." Semreh said, sighing gratefully.

"Obviously," Jolon said, peeking back into the room to make sure she was still asleep. "This girl has some skill in telekenisis, but I think she has a particular affinity for earth and mineral materials."

"You mean rocks?"

Jolon sighed heavily. "If you want to put it bluntly; yes she can move rocks. And things in general."

"Can you teach her to control it?" Semreh asked hopefully.

Jolon eyed his apprentice, like an eagle watching a fish from high atop a cliff. "Don't let your personal feelings for this girl get in the way." Jolon warned coldly. "You need a clear head to train with me."

"What feelings!?" Semreh protested, even as Jolon turned away grinning. "What feelings!?"

* * *

Daichi looked down at the clone, who was trussed up in enough rope and chain to supply a circus. The man had so far been resilient, not giving anything other than his designation.

"What are the purposes of your slaving operations?" The interrogating Guardian Chaser said.

"My designation is Commander C-56 of Imperial Special Operations."

"I'll repeat; what are the purposes of the taking of Melida/Daan slaves."

"I am Commander C-56 of Imperial Special Operations."

Daichi sighed. The usual methods weren't working out. "At least find out his nickname and as much public and classified info as you can." Daichi murmured to the man. "It'll help us get under his skin."

"Right." The man whispered grimly. He turned to a technician looking through the holonet for information.

"Commander C-56…" The man said, pausing as he scrolled through an amazing amount of data. "Here he is, on the GAR database…Uh oh."

Daichi sighed. When a man who goes toe to toe with trandoshans says 'uh oh', it gets your attention. "What is it?"

"Well," The man said, already printing off several pages of data. "His nickname is Lapan, and he was killed at the Battle of Cerali."

* * *

Jenna herded the kids into the abandoned shack Gerik said would be their new home for a couple months. She was being watched by the twins, who seemed to take no small amount of pleasure from her distress. They didn't say anything, but stared at her behind their dark hair like a Kowakian monkey-Lizards.

The kids seemed terrified of them, but Jenna eventually managed to gather them inside the decrepit building. One of the twins simply raised a finger, pointing up a spiral staircase towards a line of rooms on the next floor.

"Go on kids." She said, shooing them up. Once alone, Jenna sighed, looking around. What had happened to her life? She was only nineteen, having lied about her age to both the university and the authorities in order to take care of the kids, but somehow felt as though her life was slipping away. Looking up, she saw a window, and dreamt of escape.

* * *

Scout plunged her knife into the top of the cliff, pulling herself up on exhausted limbs. She crawled up and simply fell, face first, into the dirt.

"That- was - not - fun…" She panted once she got her breathe back.

"Training rarely is." Yasuo said from his position in a tree to her right. He was sitting crossed legged, totally at peace with the world. "I don't suppose I've convinced you to give up."

Scout's eyes flashed open. She forced her muscles to move, pushing herself up until she stood, hunched over, but standing.

"Not yet." She spat, grinning fiercely. "I'm not ready just yet."

Yasuo nodded approvingly, sliding his legs out from under him and letting himself fall from the branch. He landed with a dull thud and wrapped one of his arms around Scout, helping her to her feet.

"I can walk." She protested, trying to push away.

"Independence is good." Yasuo smiled down at her. "But always remember that there is a fine line between independence and pride. Now, let me show you where we'll train."

Yasuo walked her through the woods, pointing out its many interesting places to find food and train. They continued like this for a while until Scout remembered something.

"Master," She said, "Did you see a little droid flying around here? Annoying, and very talkative."

Yasuo thought for several moments, then shook his head. "I'm sorry my apprentice, I did not. If it came with you, it's probably already back at a village. Few people survive in that canyon."

"Yeah probably." Scout agreed, pushing the droid out of her thoughts..

Finally, they came to a small clearing. In the center, there was a very large stump that had obviously once belonged to an ancient tree.

"This," Yasuo began, "Is where the majority of your training will take place."

Scout looked around, confused. "Here?"

"Here." Yasuo repeated. He reached into a pouch at his belt, and pulled out one of the long knives he and Kilmaulsi used. "You will learn to fight quickly, unbalancing your opponent, using your skills with grappling to create an opening and strike. First," he said, gesturing at the stump. "Start with that. I want three hundred and sixty seven palm strikes."

"What!?" Scout exclaimed, confused.

"It will build your strength, your tolerance for pain, and your will." Yasuo walked over to a large boulder resting just outside the clearing.

Scout looked up at him, unsure if he was joking until he made a nudging gesture with his fingers, as though he was trying to push a small animal forward. Scout sighed and took a stance in front of the stump. With a shout, she thrust forward, smacking her palm against the wood. She winced in pain, and shook her wrist.

"Keep going." He master said, already shutting his eyes. "Around the first hundred thousand you'll have enough callus to block out the pain."

Scout sighed then gritted her teeth, striking the stump again and again till she was leaving an imprint of blood on the woods dull bark.

**_All right, so this is all that's going on. Fless and Sten are out using Bounty Hunters to gather as many fugitives as possible for allies, Nield's still trying to rally the council, while Sami and Daichi prepare the Chasers and other groups for war. Bren is building the rebel's asteroid base, at which fleets from the Commonality and other allies are gathering. Sonya is still negotiating while Scout trains under a Makutai master in their martial arts. Semreh and Jolon are training, as is Tara, who is learning to control her extremely violent and unpredictable powers. CTA-132 and C-41 are both delayed on orders from the Emperor, investigating a possibly corrupt admiral. mEanwhile, thier squad of mercs heads planetside, lying low for a few weeks. Kalasaad Woztu is negotiating with planets outside of the Commonality, trying to bring them into the fold and Jenna is just trying to keep everyone she loves alive._**

**_Now, on a related note, there's a slight change. The next three chapters are going to be a spin off story I already wrote several weeks ago. After those, I'll skip ahead three months. This is because this spin off story is now kinda important to this story. For example, it explains Semreh's experiance in the Clone wars as well as introducing a few characters that will show up soon. Originally, it was posted as a second story, but I'll add it here too, just to keep it all compiled._**

**_All right. 2 A.M. Tired, fingers hurt, sleep._**


	46. Chapter 46 Alone in the Dark part 1

**_This was written a while ago as an off shoot of The Jedi strike back. It explains one of Semreh's battles during the Clone Wars. I decided to combine it with the main story to keep it all together and organized. _**

"Incoming!" A voice yelled as Semreh threw himself to the ground. He fell, landing in several inches of water layered with a filthy combination of mud and gore. He felt a pair of hands haul his body up by his belt, dragging him forward.

"Move it boy!" A rough and oddly familiar voice yelled through a helmet. Semreh looked up into the faceless mask of a clone commando, who was firing his carbine with his right hand while dragging him with the left. "It's your plan. Try not to screw it up!"

Semreh brushed the clones arm away, not wanting to burden the soldier, and drew his saber, igniting it with a loud hiss. He and the clone advances, poring fire down onto the panicked column below. The local militias of Sluis Van tried to keep their supply routes safe. Unfortunately for them, the Republic and their guerillas were just as intent on taking that supplies. Around Semreh, allied Sluis Van natives and humans poured fire onto the transport, forcing the merchant guard to fall back, using their own trucks as cover. Just as Semreh predicted.

"Beta Squad," he said into a headset microphone he had strapped to his head. "Anvil in place. Drop the damn hammer already!" From the other side of the small trail, a line of fire burned through the woods, firing on the now exposed backs of the guards. At the front, a set of five lightsabers blazed, guiding a line of ragged guerrillas and three clones in heavy armor into the battle below. The Clones and Jedi were the greatest threat to the convoy, striking with precision and calm skill, while the guerillas roared and screamed vulgarly, letting their weapons swing wildly during their charge.

"_Jeez,"_ he thought, watching the scene with disgust as the guards remaining defenses were instantly penetrated, _"These guys need to be trained up a bit."_ The Republic had inserted them, a team of six Jedi and four clone commandos, into Sluis Van in order to attempt to weaken the Separatist stronghold from the inside out. So far, it had been a slow bloody job.

Once a major supporter of the Republic, the Sluissi had finally become disgusted with what they saw as a corrupt Republic. With support from Dooku's battle droids, they'd seceded from the Republic and trained their own defense force. Of course, there were always those who still clung to the old regime. The Jedi had been sent here to rally those remnants under the Republic's banner.

Sluis Van, with its enormous spaceport and major military facilities, could not be allowed to secede unchallenged. However, the Republic and its fledgling army was no match for Sep forces just yet. So, a new strategy, developed by Master Yoda was put into use. It involved using detachments of Jedi and Clones to train locals to fight their "oppressors" for the Republic. Semreh, his master Nostwa, and two other Jedi, Padawan teams were inserted on Sluis Van soon after this plan was put into action. Of course, Semreh would never presume to question the wisdom of Master Yoda. Even if he had dropped Semreh and his master onto a planet filled with hostile, armed Sluissi and battle droids to train the lowest dregs of society to fight in the rocky terrain. No, he'd never question that.

What remained of the battle was over in another few seconds. Surviving and wounded Sluissi were quickly rounded up, escorted through the woods to the rocky terrain in the surrounding hills and mountains. Semreh approached his Twi'lek master, who was using her double bladed lightsaber as a baton, guiding the guerrillas quickly off the trail.

"How long till the battle droids show up?" Semreh asked, looking around nervously. The wooded area around them would shield them from Sluissi eyes, but not the advanced droids sensors.

"Not long." She stated, surveying the guerillas and their prisoners. "Still, unless they bring heavy tanks, we should be all right. I'm more worried about them tracking us up the mountain. I'd prefer it if they couldn't follow us…" She let her voice drift, her green face egging him on.

"All right," Semreh said raising his hands. "Want me to take the others and wait for them on the trail?"

"Yeah," She said, looking distantly up at their stronghold in the mountain. "I'll meet you back at base." Semreh nodded and turned, heading towards where the other padawans and masters were carefully tending to those to wounded to be moved. Before his master was out of sight, he yelled after her, waving to get her attention.

"Hey, would you send Theran down too. We could use his skills for this and it would be good experience for him."

Theran was a native of Sluis Van and a Clawdite. Like his parents, who had like him taken refuge in the mountains when their allies had landed, he was a shapeshifter. Unlike his parents, who could only shape as into shapes with relatively the same mass as their original bodies, Theran had inherited a rare trait in the Clawdite gene; the ability to shape his mass as well. Semreh had no idea how he did it and he had not yet presumed to ask Theran how he broke the laws of physics.

Besides that, Theran was also Force sensitive, if only a little. Due to the shortage of Jedi in the galaxy and the war that looked like it was going to be longer and longer with each passing day, Master Nostwa had decided to help train the boy in some of the basics of manipulation. His parents had agreed and Nostwa, probably hoping to convince them to let the boy go off planet and train as a Jedi. Or at least, use his abilities for the benefit of the Republic. Of course, everything she was doing was against the Jedi Code, but Nostwa had never felt that some of the rules of the code couldn't be broken or bent in extreme situations.

"All right," She said nonchalantly waving over her shoulder." Semreh turned, heading towards the site of the ruined convoy, where the other Jedi were attempting to ease the pain of the wounded and dying. He approached the hunched over figure of one of them, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

"Droids are coming." He said quietly to Master Rufus, a Coruscanti native with a round face and baleful eyes. His apprentice was Halber, a longhaired young man a few years older than Semreh. "You gonna stay here or head up to the mountains?" Master Rufus sighed, helping the injured man lean his head forward, making sure he didn't choke on his own blood.

"Not yet." He said, looking around. "There are more wounded I can help." Semreh hesitated, unsure of how to break it to the man that they needed to move, or the droids would overtake them. When he voiced his concerns, Rufus lowered his head, looking strangely defeated.

"Take Halber. Try and by us some time while we get these guys out of here." Semreh looked at him, confused.

"You want us to risk our whole operation to save a bunch of wounded enemy grunts?" He said a little worriedly. The older master looked up at him a little sharply.

"We are Jedi, are we not? This is what we do." Semreh nodded swiftly and hurried over to Halber, who was checking the pulse of a man sprawled over one of the overturned landspeeders of the convoy. A big man, he was all muscle, powerful arms and massive legs. The gun slung over his back was just as massive, a tripod mounted rapid fire Lasersplicer that was known to cut men in half with one shot. He turned to Semreh, swing the gun from his shoulder to rest in his hands.

"Hey old comrade." He yelled heartily, checking the power gauge of his weapon. "Are we getting some action, bru?" Semreh smiled. Halber had arrived late to the temple, and still retained the accent of his home world, wherever that was. He had a small, stubby beard growing in. It was dirty blond, as was the rest of his hair, which was cut short and almost always hidden beneath his Jedi cloak.

"Looks like it." Semreh said, picking up a discarded blaster from one of the enemy soldiers. "We're to buy time for our masters to get the wounded out of here." The big man nodded and began walking down the trail towards where the other two Jedi were working.

"Oy," He yelled in greeting to the two hooded figures at the end of the road. They stood ankle deep in bodies, a short Mon Calamari whose gills and jelly eyes shook slightly in excitement, and a tall blond haired girl who looked like she could be on the cover of some holomagazine. "We got some work we gotta do, brus!" The blond girl stood up, igniting her saber and flourishing it with a flashy grin.

"Great, where?" She said with a fierce grin. Semreh smiled back at her. Somehow, despite the fierce battle that had taken place and the blood and mud that covered all of their clothes, she seemed to have come out of it without the slightest stain on her robes. Her name was Elena, and her master's name was Celant.

"We're to go down the road and set up an ambush to help hold off the droids while you and Master Rufus get the rest of the prisoners out of here." The Mon Calamari nodded and hurried over to master Rufus, flashing an encouraging smile at Elena.

"Take care padawan. I'd hate to lose such a promising student." Elena smiled back over her shoulder as they hurried away. "Tell Theran to meet us at Alpha point. We'll set up the ambush there."

The guerillas had been hiding out in the mountainous terrain around that road for nearly a month. They'd been very prepared to ambush any convoy that happened to be moving through the area. Of course, every time they hit them, a platoon of droids was always in tow. Therefore, Semreh and the rest of the Jedi had set up ambush areas, such as Alpha point, where they knew they would have the advantage over the passing droids. So far, none of the droid units had managed to make it through the woods intact to their various bases in the mountains.

As the padawans came to one of the Alpha point, Elena let out a low laugh and said she was going to take up a position on one side of the road and that Semreh and Halber should take the other half. Semreh didn't mind being ordered. After all, he preferred to follow rather than lead. What did disturb him was that low laugh. It was loaded with anticipation and almost happiness. There was definitely something un-Jedi about it. When he voiced his opinions to Halber as the trudged up a rocky outcropping, Halber agreed.

"I know." He said, surveying the road below. "Something's happened to her. Remember when we were in the temple together. Before the War." Semreh nodded and stopped. He was going to stay in a lower area of the outcropping, letting Halber use his heavier gun from above.

"Yeah," he said, "She was the perfect Jedi, always talking about the stars beyond Coruscant and how it was our job to protect the Republic. Still, this war has done something to her. Like she's changed. But it's barely been a month so far."

"Yeah," Semreh looked across the road. She had concealed herself well. He could barely even sense her with the Force. For a brief moment, he wondered why she was bothering to conceal herself with the Force. He pushed it from his mind when a slithering behind him caught his attention. He drew the captured pistol from his belt and quickly aimed it at the ground. There, lying in the grass, was a rapidly expanding snake that seemed to be growing the features of a Clawdite. He smiled.

"Hey Theran. How are your parents?" The young Clawdite emerged, his snake tail splitting into a pair of legs and his arms sprouted quickly from the snakes sides. Semreh had a personal interest in Theran's parents. He'd actually known them before the war when, in one of his first missions, he and Master Nostwa had come across their home. It had caught fire and he and his master had rushed into the building, rescuing them from the flames. Odd how that one mission had affected so much. He and his master had been selected for this mission because of their prior experience. The Clawdite family had virtually adopted the pair of Jedi, and Semreh felt like the little Clawdite as his own younger brother.

"Good, thanks." He said. He was about the same age as Semreh, except perhaps a little younger the way he clung to his parents. Then again, Semreh had heard somewhere that Clawdites grow up more slowly than humans. "Are the droids here yet?"

Semreh shook his head. "No, but Elena is in the brush across from us and Halber is going to hit them from the rock outcropping from above. So, you stick with me for a while. All right?" Theran nodded and followed Semreh through the brush at the bottom of the outcropping.

"See ya bru." Halber said with a smile, climbing into the rocks overhead. Semreh and Theran got down onto their bellies, peering out into the trail.

"How long till they get here?" Theran asked nervously. He kept changing his facial features, going from a long haired old man, to an ancient Krath woman, and back to his own Clawdite form. It was a sure sign that he was worried.

"Relax. Remember the training Master Nostwa gave you?" The Clawdite nodded and his features gradually settled into his normal form.

"Right. Sorry." A second later, he sneezed, and his face changed again. "It's these bushes we're hiding in."

"What!" Semreh whispered urgently.

"Yeah," Theran continued, "They're Fresian bushes. I'm allergic, and it messes with my shape shifting, making it impossible to control."

"Really," Semreh said watching the horizon. "It's not dangerous, is it?"

"No, not unless I swallow it or something. Then, I'd probably lose my ability to change. Still, it definitely a pain if it gives away our position."

"Don't worry about it." Semreh said as the sound of distant clanking began to break the silence. The droids were on the move. Semreh peaked his head out, squinting down the road into the fading light. There, in the front were the super battle droids, armored bodies presenting a shield meant to protect the weaker, skinnier droids behind. From his position, Semreh could also see that there were a lot more droids than they'd thought. Too many.

"Frag!" He cursed quietly, pulling himself back into the brush. He pulled out his comlinking, keying into Halber and Elena's comlinks.

"Do you guys see what I see?" He whispered into the comlink.

"Yeah," Elena's cocky voice said, "A lot of scrap metal we can turn into fortifications."

"Too much scrap metal." Halber said. "You guys can't see it from down there, but this column goes on for at least a mile. This is probably their big push to take us out. They just used the convoy to pinpoint our location." There were several moments of silence as they all took in what Halber was saying. Part of their success so far in the war had been through the virtue that the enemy had underestimated them. That only a few platoons at a time would be sent at them. Now, it seemed the Sluisii were done messing around.

"We'd better retreat to base." Semreh said, slowly backing out of the brush.

"No way!" Elena protested quietly. "Come on. We have the advantage. We could probably hold them all day from this position."

"But we'd be telling them that our base is in this area." Halber countered thoughtfully. "And then they'd just send more. On the other hand, we still have to buy some time for our masters. I think a few of us should stay behind while one of us returns and starts the evacuation. That way, we can buy some time and inform our master's." Semreh nodded to himself and turned to Theran.

"Go back to the stronghold. Warn them about what's going on." Theran nodded. A second later, a small multi-colored bird shot out of the brush and into the air, heading for the mountain base.

"Kid's a real lekker." He said. As far as Semreh had managed to understand Halber over the years, there were still times where the meaning of his slang confused him.

"What's that mean?" He asked as the droids continued to march.

"It means I like the little guy, all right. Now focus, we've got a little problem here."

"I like him too." Elena whispered into her comlink. "As long as he stops the shape shifting into a clone of me. That's just creepy." Semreh smiled despite himself. The two treated him like a dear friend. They'd fought over the past week or two together. Somehow, something had just clicked between them. Now, they felt like old friends.

The droids were closer now. The three padawans tensed, looking out from the bushes they hid behind, aiming down the sights of their weapons. As the Super battle droid line passed them, Semreh readied his blaster, taking careful aim at the backs of one of the Super battle droids. It was one of the few weak points on their bodies. After all, the Seps never expected their droids to run. Then, it happened. Elena leapt from the bushes, diving head first into the crowd of skinny battle droids, who tried to turn and fire on her. They were too clumsy and Elena was a blur by now, spinning and swing her lightsaber, a wide grin on her face as the droids fell, splattering oil like blood on the ground.

"Haha, let's rock and roll."

Semreh sighed, and took careful aim with his blaster, hitting one of the Super battle droids from behind. Then another. Before he could get a third shot off, the droids turned, spraying the bushes where Semreh was hiding with blaster bolts that flew from their wrists. Semreh leapt up throwing himself to the right, so the droids all turned to fire at him. Of course, that forced them to turn their backs on the rock outcropping again, and Halber chose that moment to fire his heavy blaster, raking the Super battledroids from behind.

Semreh looked up and grinned at Halber, who gave him a small two fingered salute and a smile before turning his blaster on the rest of the droids. They fell like leaves from autumn trees, but every time one fell, two more would spring up. Elena was surrounded by them now, only kept alive by her Force driven reflexes and her sheer reckless attacks. The droids fell around her, hewed low like wheat in a field. But more sprouted up, aiming bolts of high powered plasma that scorched her robes.

If you'd looked at Elena though, you would have thought she was simply strolling through the street. Her robes were almost perfectly clean despite the oil and ash that coated the ground and she had this calm, but joyous smile on her face, like a worker that truly enjoyed going to work every day.

Halber, seeing she was surrounded, leapt down from his high post, drawing his leaf green saber in his left hand while his right aimed the Lasersplicer swinging from his shoulder strap. Well, not aiming actually. Then again, he didn't have to aim at this point. The droids fell in long lines, both to the scattered fire of his repeating blaster and powerful swings from his lightsaber. Semreh, seeing an opportunity to clog the narrow roads with droid bodies, joined them, drawing his saber and hacking his way forward.

Halber had never really been a fighter. Which was weird, since he had the body of a brawler. He was, like most Jedi, a pacifist by nature. Of course, when the war had started, he and his master had answered the call. Peaceful was one thing; Helplessness was an entire different cup of caf.

Still, even in the midst of a life and death battle, he couldn't help but look over at Elena and the wild joy that shown from behind strands of her long blond hair. There was definitely something wrong there. Halber had known Elena all her life, just like Semreh, and he had never seen anything like this. Where normal Jedi would be sad, even hesitant to strike, Elena seemed to be eager. Her yellow blade whirled, and three of the advancing battle droids lost their heads.

Halber yanked his mind back into the present as more battle droids charged, metal feet still clanking on the ground and stones. He really didn't know how long they could hold, but he guessed it wasn't long.

"This is bollocks!" He yelled as a blaster bolt grazed his arm. "We gotta get out of here. Now!"

"Are you kidding!?" Elena roared over the pinging of blaster fire. "We've got them all piled on top of each other. We stay, and we could hold them by ourselves." Halber and Semreh exchanged looks. Now, she just seemed crazed. Turning, they each grabbed one of her arms and, Elena kicking and screaming, dragged off the battlefield at a run.

* * *

Elena wasn't crazy. At least, she didn't think so. She just wanted to go back and fight. Those droids were all right there, stacked on top of each other. Every swing of her saber would fell five at a time. How was that not the best odds they would get? Still, as the continued running down the trail, deflecting blaster fire as they went, Elena noticed that the smoke and fire around them was not exclusive to their area. In fact, there in the mountain, she thought she could barely see a thick billow of wavy smoke rising from the area that would have been their base. When she voiced her worries to Semreh and Halber, they turned and their jaws dropped momentarily, followed by a steely resolve.

Turning their backs on the droids, the sprinted, this time running pell-mell up the mountain. The droids tried to follow, but the rocky terrain and speed of the Jedi made that impossible. Soon, the Jedi were far ahead, almost at the entrance to the caves. Finally, they came to the tunnel where their base had been hidden. Elena gasped involuntarily and Semreh and Halber both cursed at the same time. The door to the tunnel had been blown open and now lay in a smoking heap on the floor.

Semreh and Halber advanced tunnel quietly, blasters scanning slowly, searching for movement. There was none. On the floor, many guerrillas were lying, strewn every which way. They were sprawled over chairs and desks and tables. The floor was slick despite the little amount of blood on the floor. A small drop of some liquid fell, striking Semreh on the nose. Disturbed, Semreh looked up and gagged in horror. There, hanging from a long piece of steel he'd been impaled on, was Master Rufus. His mouth was grotesquely shaped and his hands and feet hung at odd angles. This was because they were bound together by stun cuffs. Master Rufus hadn't been killed. He'd been executed.

Semreh hesitated, then reached placed his hand on Halber's shoulder, who had yet to notice. He leaned back and whispered, "What?" Semreh, unable to look him in the eye, pointed upwards. Halber looked up. His hands shook for a second and he dropped his heavy weapon. His knees soon followed.

"Master!" He whispered. His face, suddenly a mask of indescribable and terrible pain. Then, it was gone, replaced by a carefully controlled. Reaching up, he grabbed the spike piercing his master and pulled it out of the ceiling. His master fell, caught and lowered to the ground by Semreh.

"Someone is going to pay." Elena said quietly, a dangerous tone in her voice. She was shaking and her eyes were flashing as she walked towards the next door. Semreh looked at Halber for a second, but then got up and followed Elena down the tunnel. Halber stayed behind, staring at the remains of his master.

Elena's heart was beating now, hitting her chest like a hammer. If Master Rufus had been killed, what if-

"_No!"_ She thought, looking around the corner of one of the many winding passageways of the mountain. _"Can't think like that. Gotta find Master Celant. And she'd better be safe."_

The deeper she we went into the base, the more worried she became. She saw dead guerillas everywhere, but so far no Jedi robes. Where was she?

* * *

Two hours later, and neither Master Nostwa nor Master Celant had been found. The padawans had gathered in the room with the least blood in it. Sereh still slipped stepping inside.

"We can assume that the Master's were captured," Semreh told his quiet audience. "We can probably still rescue them if we hurry." Elena nodded, her face a mask of fury. Semreh may have normally warned her about the danger of those feelings, but not today. It'd be too hypocritical.

They both looked at Halber, who was clutching his head, hands ripping at his hair. His weapon was abandoned, propped up against the wall. Finally, he spoke.

"Elena and I will go after master Celant. You take Master Nostwa." Semreh paused, unsure of how to respond.

"Halber," he said gently, "They're probably held in the same place. We don't have to split up."

"Yes we do." He said, looking up. His face was perfectly clear and serene. "Do you see any of the civilians in here? Like Theran, and the little lekker?" Semreh shook his head, realization dawning.

"Your right." He agreed, "Somebody led them away from the base."

"Exactly." Halber continued. "And either way, we need to both find the refugees and investigate the city for news on our masters. Elena and I will head for the city, while you track down the civilians. Either way, we'll meet at least one of the masters." Semreh nodded. As usual, Halber had a sound plan. That's why he was the leader normally in these missions.

"We'll meet back here in three days." Elena suggested as Semreh headed towards the door. He nodded without looking back.

"Agreed." He turned then, looking them both in the eyes. "May the Force be with you my friends."


	47. Chapter 47 Alone in the Dark part 2

**_Also, excuse any mistakes. My computer sometimes changes some of the letters when I upload documents, and I didn't have time to clean it up since it's a repost. If you want to read the cleaned up version, search for it on Fan Fic. Same name._**

It didn't take Semreh long to find the refugees. To be honest, though they fought well enough in the battlefield, they were terrible at covering their tracks. Something they'd have to work on later. If there was a later.

Still it took him several hours to finally catch up with the rebel camp, mostly because he had to also dodge the Separatist tracking droids who were scouring the woods in pairs. They searched very thoroughly but, being droids, missed many of the important details Semreh saw on the forest floor. Several times that night, Semreh came remarkably close to being shot by one of those skinny droids, something that would no doubt have earned him hours of criticizing from Elena. Halber would only laugh.

As he began to catch up to the rebels, signs of people passing through the hills and woods began to get more frequent. Foot prints, broken branches, even the occasional clip from a blaster or a rag from someone's clothing. Finally, he glimpsed some movement in the trees in front of him. One of the sentries the guerrillas had posted. He'd concealed himself in the thick brush of a small overpass and was watching the woods below. Semreh used the force to aid him and leapt, landing besides the startled man.

"Stars Jedi!" He said, lowering his raised weapon. "I almost shot you."

"Don't worry." Semreh said lightheartedly, "You would have missed."

"But I wouldn't have." Semreh spun.

Behind him, one of the Clone Commandos, a big man named nicknamed Screech, was sitting in a tree above his head, a sniper attachment on his carbine. His heavy katarn armor covered every inch of his body. It was of much higher quality than the average troopers and could withstand everything from the average blaster bolt to high powered explosives. Semreh didn't know who one in a head to head fight between commandos and Jedi, but he certainly didn't want to find out.

"Hey Screech." He said with a tiny salute. "You guys get out all right?" The commando lowered his weapon and jumped down from the tree with a dull thud. He stood back up, shaking mud off his heavy boots.

"We took some casualties." He said through his helmet. "Lots of guerrillas and a few of the civilians. But Barca, Fingers, and Ding all got out all right." Barca, Fingers, and Ding were Screech's squad mates. Ding got his name due to his piloting skills, which were less than stellar and often resulted in whatever ship they happened to commandeer being used for scrap metal. He made up for it by having a unique skill with space walking and combat, something that few, if any, soldiers ever truly mastered.

Finger's name was a little more… gruesome. The clone had a small necklace that he kept hidden under his armor. Strung on that string were the small clamp-like fingers of dozens of droids. Semreh knew that they were only scraps of metal from the battlefield, but something about the practice made him shudder. Maybe when he got back to Coruscant, he'd ask the Council to act on it.

As for Barca, Semreh couldn't fathom where the name came from. He'd even used the search function on his datapad, which had a direct link to the temple. Nothing. Not even his brothers seemed to know. They only knew their mando sergeant had pulled him aside one day, and that after that, the sergeant had called him Barca. The name had stuck.

"What about Master Nostwa? And Elena's master?"

"Master Nostwa is all right." Screech said as they began trotting up the hill. "We haven't been able to find Master Celant, but we can safely assume she has been made a prisoner by Sep forces. After all, they wouldn't kill such a valuable hostage." Semreh thought back to the massacre back at their former hideout. A cold hand seemed to squeeze the air from his lungs.

"They didn't spare Master Rufus." Semreh said quietly. Screech looked startled. Well, as startled as a clone could look in those heavy helmets.

"Really?" He said bowing his head. Like many clones, he was trained not only to obey, but protect the Jedi generals. "Well, we haven't seen or heard from Master Celant, and the Separatists did apparently take prisoners. Couple of the civilians, including those Clawdites."

"You mean Theran!?" Semreh exclaimed, but Screech shook his head.

"No, I thought he was with you."

"We sent him back when it became clear we couldn't hold the droids, to warn you. He never showed."

Screech shook his head. "No, but maybe he took off after his parents. It's possible the little runt wanted to save them, and if he is Force sensitive, he should be able to sense them, right?" Semreh shook his head, worry spreading across his face.

"The Force doesn't work that way for the untrained, and especially not for someone as weak in it as Theran. No, he must have been captured enroute to the base." Screech nodded in agreement.

Ahead, the very dull glow of a smoldering campfire came into view. Around it, small tired lumps covered in whatever rags or blankets they could find huddled close to both block the light and keep warm. Standing several feet away was the rest of Screech's squad and Semreh's master Nostwa.

"You're alive." She said simply. Her face was calm, but Semreh sensed an overwhelming feeling of relief radiate from her.

"Not my fault." He said with a sardonic grin. "Droids just suck at shooting." She smiled back and patted him on the shoulder before signaling him to follower her. Together, they walked into the darkened woods. The trees rose up around them, blocking the sliver of the moon that still shone dimly in the sky.

"We are in a crisis padawan." She stated not looking at him. She looked straight ahead, eyes calm despite the urgency of the situation. "If we do not act soon, the Separatists will use Sluis Van as a base with which to attack the rest of the Republic. And with its powerful shipyards, they'll have ships and droids to spare."

"The obvious answer is for the Republic to destroy the shipyards." Semreh said with a small shrug, "But the reason they sent us here is to soften up the planet for a ground invasion. Why? Why not just take a Republic fleet and decimate the place?"

"Don't know." Nostwa said, resting her hand on her holstered lightsaber. "We don't decide the Republics policy…"

"We just carry it out." Semreh finished with a small grunt, "But is it too much to ask for their orders to make a little sense?" Nostwa laughed heartily, patting her young student on the back.

"Welcome to war Semreh."

* * *

Elena and Halber walked through the crowded streets of the massive capital city. Of course, most of the signs were written in the native language and the majority of the people there didn't seem to understand basic. To be honest, Halber didn't even know how to pronounce the name of the city. Something with way to many s's though.

They'd quickly donned disguises as they entered the city. Neither of them wished to be seen as Jedi by the highly Separatist citizen's. Beneath their clothes, they hid their sabers, just in case they were discovered. Elena of course had managed to look not only different in her disguise, but just plain stunning. She had cut her padawan braid and let her hair fall down past her shoulders. She wore a soft blouse covered by a blue jacket embroidered with elegant figures.

Though stunning, Halber noticed how few of the natives seemed to watch her for long, probably because every time somebody did, she would through them a look akin to a Hutt who just had food stolen from its mouth. Halber shook his head.

"Elena," he whispered into her ear, "Could you try and not scare every guy we come across?"

"Fine," She growled, still scanning the crowd with her intense eyes. "I just want to find Master Celant." Halber looked at her, worry growing in his belly. For the past hour or so, that was all she'd talked about, muttering it quietly under her breathe. In fact, most of the people were probably staring at her out of worry for her sanity, rather than her looks.

"Ya ya, but look, we won't find her today. We've got to find a place to hole up for the night. A base where we can hide from the Seps. Otherwise, people will think we're a couple of wankers, and we'll probably get arrested. Come on." Gently, he tried to guide her towards one of the nearby inns and motels that dotted the streets, but she shrugged him off, eyes still scanning. Sighing, Halber followed her, hoping to at the very least, keep her out of trouble.

"_Not like I'm not dealing with anything after all."_ He thought a little bitterly. Every time Halber thought about his wounded master, his chest seemed to contract, hurting worse than any injury he'd ever felt. The thought of Master Rufus, dead and unprotected by his padawan, tore through him, making his soul howl in pain. Halber felt the only thing keeping him walking was the thought of what Elena was going through. As bad as Halber felt, at least he knew his master's fate. Elena's desperation came from her duty to her master, her feeling that Master Celant was her job to protect. Just as Master Rufus had been his.

As they continued searching the city aimlessly, Halber used their time to formulate a plan in his head, knowing that they would have to eventually stop for a while. Still, it took Elena longer than Halber had imagined before she finally stopped, stamped a foot, and stomped over to a nearby bar. Halber followed cautiously, eyes searching for danger.

Elena made straight for the bar, ordering a cup of Juma juice. The barkeep turned to Halber and asked if he wanted some corellian whiskey, but Halber waved him away. He never drank, and he wasn't about to start in their current situation. He turned on his swiveling stool to watch the room, keeping a particular careful watch on the door. The bar was busy, more a club than anything else and as the night started to get later, more people seemed to be congregating.

One man in particular caught Halber's eye, a small figure hunched in the corner. His face was shadowed by the dark shadows, but Halber saw a pair of vibrant blue eyes flashing out from a the dark, reflecting off the flashing lights of the bar's dance floor. Halber looked at Elena, who nodded. She'd noticed him to.

They were about to leave when another figure slipped into the bar, unnoticed by the rest of the patrons. He was cloaked from head to toe in rough clothe and was quickly making his way towards Halber and Elena. As he got closer, Halber recognized the pulse in the Force, and smiled.

"Hey bru. I'm assuming you found our friends." He said as Semreh lowered the hood of his cloak. "Are they all right?"

Semreh grabbed a stool, spinning around to signal the barkeep. "Most of them." He said quietly. His voice sounded tired. "A lot of the guerillas are dead, and Theran and his parents are missing." Halber looked down at the bar counter, resting his head between his hands.

"So now we've got to find him too?" Semreh nodded, taking a deep swig from the glass the barkeep had brought him.

"If we don't, who knows what Intel he could give them." Semreh looked up, gazing intently into both their eyes. Plus, we have another reason for finding him.

"He's our friend." Elena finished stoically. "But what about my master. We can't just leave her out there."

"Master Celant could probably resist any techniques the Seps used to get Intel out of her. Theran on the other hand…"

"Theran's just a kid." Halber said, trying to reason with her. "Our jobs to protect the weak, even at the expense of our own lives. What would your master want you to do?" For a moment, Elena looked like she might kill Halber. She glared at him, her eyes flinty and dark. Finally, she looked away. When she spoke it sounded like she was choking back tears.

"Fine, we find Theran first." She said thickly, face turned away from them. Halber placed a big hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, I promise we'll find Master Celant when this is over with. Besides, how hard can it be to find the little clawdite."

"Not hard at all as it turns out." A voice behind them said cheerfully. The padawans whirled, each of them instinctively reaching for the sabers hidden beneath their cloaks. The blond man from the corner was standing in front of them, his eyes wide and his mouth stretched into a wide smile. Unnaturally wide. Creepily wide.

"Theran!" Semreh whispered incredulously. "You're all right!"

"Hey you little lekker." Halber said holding out a hand. "You all right? How are your parents?" Theran sat in one of the bar stools, turning his face so the light from the room shone on it. The wide smile was still there.

A second later, the stools clattered to the ground as Semreh and Elena stood up, each reaching for the sabers under their cloaks. They stopped when the clawdite pressed the blaster he had drawn against Halber's stomach, digging the barrel into his belly.

"I wouldn't move, old friend." Theran snarled quietly.

* * *

Semreh kicked himself silently, watching the stand-off tentatively. The patrons in the bar had yet to realize how much danger they were in, and Semreh felt they wouldn't act if they didn't know. He shouldn't have worn his robes here. The little changeling had followed him, letting him lead him to his fellow Jedi. Still, there were still holes in that argument. Like why Theran would betray his few friends on the planet.

"Theran," Semreh said quietly, trying to calm the maniacal grin on his friends face, "What are you doing? Remember, we're your friends." The clawdite snorted angrily, pressing harder with the blaster.

"Friends. Friends don't bring war to your home. Friends don't get people mixed up in stuff they never wanted to be a part of.

"I saved your life!" Semreh said, feeling some anger rising. "I saved your parents."

"And a lot of good that's done." He spat back. "Now, you three are going to come with me to the Sep headquarters. Otherwise, I'll give Halber a reason to regret letting my parents get captured."

"What are you talking about bru?" Halber said, calmly keeping his hands raised. "If the Seps have your parents, we'll just go rescue them, right? Remember, you have Jedi as friends." Theran stopped for a second, eyes flickering as if reconsidering his decision. Then, his eyes hardened, and he pressed again.

"Sorry buddy." He said sarcastically, "But the Jedi are no longer the protectors they thought they were. You can't even protect yourselves."

"And what do you have to gain by turning us in to the Seps." Elena said through gritted teeth.

"My parents." He said blandly. "If I turn you in, the Separatists give us a ship and send us on our way. And all I have to do-"

"Is betray the only friends you have on the planet." Elena growled. Her hand shook slightly, finger hanging above the blades activator.

"Like I said, you can't even protect yourselves." The clawdite smiled that strange smile again. Semreh suddenly realized why it looked so odd. Madness. Semreh and Elena tried to step forward to help Halber, but the clawdite was too fast. He pulled the trigger, sending a pulse of burning plasma into Halber's stomach.

He fell backwards with a grunt of pain, hand clutching the wound. Elena jumped forward, trying to catch the clawdite, but was blocked by the crowds. Semreh rushed forward to catch Halber before he hit the ground as a crowd of people began to gather at the scene. Semreh looked around and saw Elena through herself after Theran, lightsaber ignited. Unfortunately, the crowd saw it too. Whispers shot through the crowd, people murmuring that they were Jedi. Sensing a riot coming, Semreh drew his lightsaber and grabbed Halber with his other arm, hauling him to his feet.

"Where's Elena?" He slurred in pain.

"Chasing Theran." Semreh said as he rushed at the nearby wall, hacking a path into the street as the bar folk roared angrily.

"Stop her." He rasped. "Stop her now." Semreh shook his head, trying to hurry as the alarms began to sound and the locals began searching fervently for the two Jed.

"Your bleeding to badly for me to leave you alone buddy. Don't worry, I'll find her later." Halber looked like he might argue for a second, but then sagged as his eyes closed. Semreh continued down the streets, dodging through alleyways and traffic. Finally, he came to the outskirts of the city, where an apparently inconspicuous pair of rocks rose up to greet him.

"I thought you were going for stealth." Screech said, knocking the camouflage he'd padded his armor with off. "We can hear the fighting from here."

"Problems arose." Semreh said, putting Halber down onto the ground gently. "Help me fix him up soldier. He'd hurt bad." Barca, the other inconspicuous rock, trotted over to help Halber, carrying a medical kit in his hands. He knelt onto one knee, working quickly to stop the young Jedi's bleeding.

"He'll be all right." Barca said after several moments. "Bacta is flowing and the bleedings beginning to slow. Looks like he moved just in time so that his side, and not his belly, took most of the blast."

"Good." Semreh said, turning back towards the city. "Keep an eye on him until I get back."

"And where are you going…Sir."

"Back into the city. Elena's still in there."

"Standing orders from Master Nostwa are to keep you alive." Screech said gruffly, "So I have to insist that you stay here." The commando cocked his head, eyes probably thoughtful beneath his helmet.

"I'm going." Semreh stated simply. "Come on. I know you want to come with." Screech paused, looked down at Barca, then followed, swinging his carbine around and onto his shoulder strap with a grunt.

* * *

Elena knew, unlike her fellow Jedi, that Theran was the key. He was the one with the power to betray them, and he was their key to the Separatists who were holding her master. She didn't know how she knew all these things, but she did. She felt as if she'd never been surer of anything in her life.

She felt that, if only she could get Theran before he made it to the Separatist headquarters, everything would be made right. Master Celant would be found. Halber would never have been shot. She could let go of this terrible rage that was ripping her insides apart. All she had to do was catch that little clawdite and everything would be made right.

The little guy was fast though, jumping and weaving through the crowds with the ease of his ever changing body. The little guy even knew the back alleys better then Elena, taking unseen shortcuts and escape routes. Finally, he lost Elena, leaving her standing in a large four way intersection devoid of any life. Even the wind seemed to have died.

"Well, well." A mad voice yelled from seemingly everywhere at once. "They sent their little killer Jedi after me. My, my. What has happened to you all? Has the war dulled your senses?" Elena turned, eyes searching for the little changling. Something was different about her old friend. He was sinister, more evil than she had thought possible. Through the Force, she felt the dark side radiating from him. It felt as though she was being bombarded from all sides.

"Tell me Theran," Elena said in a cocky tone, trying to mask her unease. "Did you sell out because of money? Or was t really your parents? Did they torture them Theran? Did they torture you? Oh, I bet you sang like a bird, didn't you. Probably would have sold out your own family too to make the pain stop."

"SHUT UP!" He screamed, voice still magnified, but Elena tracked his voice now. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" The changeling was screaming now, his voice becoming easier to find.

"You don't know what it's like." He continued cravenly, "The pain…" Elena heard a shudder in his voice and a flash of pity shot through her. Whatever the Seps had done to him had broken his mind. She heard it in his voice, in the way the Force around him seemed to flicker between light and dark.

"Come back to us Theran." She said as softly as possible. "I can feel you in the Force. You're teetering on the edge. Please come before you fall." He laughed, any pain or fear gone from his voice, replaced by madness.

"Oh, is that me you think you're feeling, or are you the one trapped between light and dark."

"What are you talking about?" Elena snapped. She could hear his voice, but he kept moving, making it impossible to find his location.

"I've heard Semreh and Halber talking." They're worried about you, and with good reason evidently. You love war, don't you? More than any soldier should anyways." Elena opened her mouth to argue, but closed it tightly. He was trying to distract him.

"That's it isn't it." He cackled from somewhere in the darkness. "Crazy Elena. Reckless Elena. Ruthless Elena. My, sounds like you have a lot of very un-Jedi emotions. Does your failure to protect your master anger you?"

"There is no anger, there is peace." Elena said, "Something you'll never feel again." Theran laughter spat out from the darkness again.

"Don't spout your Jedi wisdom at me. I've seen the truth of you now. Not even Halber or Semreh know how deep you've sunk into the dark side."

"Stop it." She said through gritted teeth. The world was spinning, almost bringing Elena to her knees.

"You didn't help Halber when I shot him. No, you went straight for me. Why?" He paused, letting his words sink in. "Because you wanted to kill me more than anything else. Because the thought of a fight excited you. It thrilled you. The thought that you might be able to fight made you the happiest girl in the world. You were primal, acting on instinct, like some animal."

"Stop!" She yelled desperately, using a Force propelled leap to take her onto one of the surrounding roofs. There he was. Grinning even as his body melted and reformed into a different body.

"Well," he said quickly before his throat changed, taking the form of one more designed for roaring. "Let's see who the bigger animal is."

Theran bent over, completing his transformation. He roared, now a fully transformed akk dog, with knife-like teeth and a hide that could stop a blaster bolt cold. Theran roared and threw himself forward, bounding towards Elena.

The akk dog, a creature native to Haruun Kal was considered one of the most deadly animals alive. Impenetrable armor surrounded it's body and it's intelligent mind let it hunt in packs with the precision of commandos.

Elena let herself fall backwards, using her legs to throw the akk dog over her and into the alley below. Theran fell, landing on his akk feet with a crash. He looked up, roared, and jumped straight up, landing in front of Elena. He spun, whipping his tail at her, trying to catch her off guard, but she jumped, flipping backwards. Her back bent, taking the form of a hyper drawn bow as the tail barely missed crushing her.

She slid backwards on her feet, then advanced, letting her lightsaber cast a weaving pattern of yellow flame around the akk. It was futile. The akks hide was too tough to penetrate with her saber. Leaping up, she tried to get onto the one place the akk couldn't reach with its teeth, its own back. She missed, and Theran whirled around, letting his tail hit her, sweeping her legs out. Elena flipped through the air sideways, spinning like a rag doll. She landed in the alley, body bruised and head ringing. As she lay there, waiting for Theran to finish her off, she realized that he had been right. Among the many fading emotions that she let go of as darkness took her eyes, was the pure joy of battle.

"Oh." Was all she could mutter.

* * *

Semreh and Screech were two soldiers of the Republic. Screech was a super soldier with more weapons in his armor than most beings saw in a lifetime. He was trained in dozens of combat techniques and had more combat experience than he had skin cells.

Semreh was a Jedi who had trained from day one to master control of an all powerful energy field that could be used to do everything from communicating telepathically to push punch enemies from yards away. He had trained with the lighsaber, and had studied for years in the temple archives.

Between the two of them, stealing a landspeeder from the outskirts of town was no problem. Unfortunately, Semreh was the one trying to drive it.

"Lookoutlookoutlookout!" Screech yelped from the passenger seat, instinctively ducking as the trash can rolled up the hood of the landspeeder and off.

"Quiet." Semreh ordered from the driver's seat. "I'm trying to-"

"Speeder!" He interrupted. Semreh yanked onto the wheel, barely missing oncoming traffic. They barely missed and the driver whizzed by, giving Semreh a rude gesture on his way.

"That was totally unnecessary." Semreh sniffed as the speeder continued weaving its way through traffic.

Bam! Another trash can.

"Get off the sidewalk you chaker!" Screech yelled at Semreh.

"Please, it's only a trash can."

Bam, bam, bam!

"Okay, a couple trash cans."

"You're gonna kill someone." Screech yelled.

"Quiet, I can't drive with you screaming at me."

"You can't drive at all!"

"Shut up already!" He said. A harsh scrapping sound. Some poor fellow no longer had a mint condition Soru Sub luxury speeder. Now he had about half.

"The owner might not even notice." Semreh assured a horrified Screech.

"Yeah." Screech said, swinging his blaster carbine around. "But the local security did."

Semreh looked in his rear view mirror. Behind them, lights flashing on their speeders and weapons draw, were the local security forces. The followed, one of them yelling on a microphone for them to pull over.

"Screech," Semreh said grinning at him. "Would you mind discouraging them?" Screech nodded and leaned out the window of the landspeeder, letting his blaster carbine blaze away at the men behind them. The security forces swerved and jerked, trying to dodge the torrent of blue fire.

Suddenly, Elena's eyes snapped open. Above her, the akk dog was growling, letting a thin vein of slime roll off his tongue. Elena kept playing dead, letting Theran savor his victory. Then, something unexpected. Theran's body bulged and stretched, and he emerged in his clawdite form. His grey skin stretched into a wicked smile. He stepped forward, and was surprised when Elena's leg shot upward, nailing him between his legs. Theran fell forward, already changing again, but Elena's fist was already rising. It connected with a crack into his nose. Theran jumped backwards, rolling to avoid a slash from her reignited lightsaber.

Elena tried to get up to chase him, but her leg wouldn't move. She looked down and saw it twisted at a weird angle, broken. Theran, already halfway changed, began bounding towards her. A second later, he stopped as a hail of blaster fire from one of the side alleys surprised him. From the alley, Semreh emerged, followed closely by Screech, who had a carbine in his hand and was firing steadily at Theran, who had changed into some type of winged bird and was flying away.

"You all right?" Semreh asked, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulder and hauling her to her feet.

"I think my leg's broken." She said shakily. "I can't walk on it for long."

"You won't have to." Semreh assured as he helped her limp out of the alley. "We've got a speeder."

"Most of a speeder anyways." Screech said darkly. Semreh glowered at him.

"It still drives, doesn't it?"

"Barely." Screech shot back, helping Elena into the back seat. Semreh reached for the door on the driver's side, but Screech pushed his hand away, indicating for him to get in the passenger seat.

"Fine." Semreh grumbled, shutting the door behind him. The sound of security sirens was rising, like they were getting closer. "Just get us out of here."

Back at the guerilla camp on the outskirts of the city, Semreh sat in a circle with his closest friends. A council of war. What remained of their soldiers were outside the camp, watching carefully for any Sep presence.

"We have to deal with this threat now padawan." Master Nostwa said with some urgency. "We need to find Theran and bring him in."

"Bad idea." Ding said looking at Screech. "Clawdites are a class four species. There hard to keep captured. And since this kid is able to change his mass as well as his appearance, he could very well turn into something as small as a mouse and slip out of captivity. If he does that, then we're really screwed."

"So we don't capture him." Barca said coldly. "We find him, plug a bolt through his head, and walk out. Quick and clean."

"Jedi don't kill their friends." Halber snapped, then fell back, groaning. His stomach was healing fine, but it wasn't a small wound. Semreh and Elena were quiet, listening to both sides. Master Nostwa and Halber were in favor of bringing Theran in peacefully. They wanted to help him, bring him back from the dark side. The clone commandos wanted to simplify things. Simple assassination. Their priority was the mission. Nothing else.

"There's another problem." Screech said worriedly. "Staying on planet is no longer safe, for us or for the guerillas. We need to evac as many of them as possible before the Seps close in for the kill. And since most of our communication equipment was captured, that means using Sep channels."

"What we need, is a plan." Elena said. "A plan that accomplishes all our goals at once." Everyone was quiet for a while, each deep in thought, trying to decide what their priorities should be.

"Master Nostwa is right." Semreh said quietly. "We can't let Theran walk away from this. Not with the amount of Intel he has. We take him down, one way or the other." The people around him looked at him, faces a vast mix of emotions. Master Nostwa looked worried, Halber slightly angry, the clones and Elena had expressionless masks.

"You said Theran is doing this to protect his parents?" Semreh asked Elena, looking at her. She paused, then nodded silently.

"Fine, then we put the word out. Try and make sure Theran knows where we'll be in three days."

"And where will we be?" Nostwa asked, crossing her arms. She was looking at her padawan intently, as if she was interested in how he would handle the situation.

"Halber and you should stay her master." He told her respectfully. "Somebody will have to keep the guerillas organized for evacuation."

"What evacuation?" Screech asked.

"The one you and I will call for using the com station at the local Sep headquarters. While we deal with that, Master Nostwa and Halber will move our people to the evacuation point, Barca and the rest of the commandos will create a distraction, and Elena will deal with Theran. We hit them all at once and escape in the chaos." The clones and Jedi all looked at each other. It was a sound plan, but would it work. Halber looked doubtful, as did Screech. But Master Nostwa looked proud. And Elena…Elena looked something close to fearful. For a moment, Semreh considered retracting his statement, but it was too late now.

"It's a good plan." Master Nostwa said, beaming at Semreh. "And it should accomplish all our goals at once. So, let's get too work. We've only got a day or two before the Separatists strike first. Let's move!"


	48. Chapter 48 Alone in the Dark part 3

**_Also, excuse any mistakes. My computer sometimes changes some of the letters when I upload documents, and I didn't have time to clean it up since it's a repost. If you want to read the cleaned up version, search for it on Fan Fic. Same name._**

Holding a Clawdite in custody is normally easy. Most of them are unable to change their mass, therefore a simple cage would be able to hold them. They could change their appearance all the wanted, and they'd still be stuck. However, whether due to some genetic mutation or inherited trait, a few Clawdites would occasionally be born with the ability to change their mass. These rare finds were virtually impossible to keep imprisoned due to that special talent. The prisoner could be large as a bantha, or as small as a dinko. Quite the problem for the captors.

As Semreh sat contemplating their problem outside of the camp the guerillas had made, he was struck by how adamant everybody was that they not kill Theran. For a moment, he wondered why they shouldn't. I mean, he'd betrayed them, nearly killed Halber, and would probably try to kill Elena again. No matter what their previous friendship had met, they were friends no more.

Yet, every time Semreh imagined himself facing Theran, he lost. Not through any lack of skill, no. Theran was a dangerous combatant, but that was not how Semreh lost in his imagination. He always had his saber raised, prepped for the killing blow, but he could not strike. He could not destroy this dangerous criminal who could cause an endless amount of death and suffering for the Republic. In the end, Semreh felt he did not have it in him to end the threat.

As his thoughts continued to wonder, Semreh heard a distant grunting and thumping sound from deeper into a grove of trees to his right. Getting to his feet with a grunt, he stalked through the woods, investigating. Standing in front of a battered old tree was Elena, saber ignited and raging against the wood of the tree. She was going through her lightsaber form, Ataru. Her leg was injured and in a heavy splint, yet her grace was undiminished, letting her flip and spin through the air. Every movement she made wrought another thin burn line into the tree.

Semreh approached quietly and coughed to get her attention. She spun, a wild look in her eye, her saber raised in a defensive stance.

"What do you want?" She demanded fiercely as she deactivated her saber with a hiss.

"Training?" Semreh questioned cautiously. Women tended to be a little volatile in his opinion, and it would be his luck to be gutted by a comrade a day before escaping. "You seem too injured to be training like that."

"Yet, you want me to take down Theran tomorrow. Seems a little odd." Elena countered. "Why don't you do it, or Master Nostwa, or any other Jedi." She fell silent, looking down at her feet. The wind blew a little, rustling the hems of her robes around her feet. She turned away, looking up into the dark treetops.

Semreh had started at her sudden outburst, but stayed quiet, waiting for her to speak. Silence enveloped them. The only noise to be heard was from the wind and an annoying insect that was buzzing around Semreh's head. It was several minutes before she spoke again.

"Why are you sending me against Theran?" She asked demandingly. Semreh thought for a moment, then shrugged.

"I don't know." He confessed. "I suppose because we don't have a lot of options on who to send. Because we need to take him down. Because he can't escape. Because-" He stopped, and felt his face redden.

"Because I will kill him." She stated, her face falling. "By the Force! That's it, isn't it? You think I'm some type of killer!"

"Now Elena," Semreh began, trying to calm her. "You know that's not tr-"

"Then why, huh? Why send the wounded Jedi?"

"Because I can't do it!" Semreh blurted finally. "Because I can't kill the kid."

"And you think I can?" Elena practically screamed at him. "You think I enjoy this? All this fighting, all this death!"

"No," Semreh shot back, his voice rising. "Elena, your fearless, skilled, and the only one I want fighting next to me in a battle. But I think somewhere, somewhere you don't go very often, you enjoy the thrill of fighting. I think this war has brought something out of you; something dark. And sometimes, I wonder what you're going to do after the war. Just go back to being a peacekeeper? Unlikely."

Semreh stopped, his chest heaving. He hadn't meant to yell, but Elena had finally pushed him too far. Elena looked like she'd been punched in the nose, but stood her ground, glaring steadily at Semreh.

"I know I've changed Semreh." She said, her voice quiet now. "We've all changed. We all will."

"Including you." She said looking up and looking him in the eyes. "You've changed too. I may be a killer, but you're using me like you would a chess piece. You're using my nature to win. Manipulating people, even your own master. You think she doesn't notice. I have. Sending her too deal with the "evacuation" so you can send me to kill Theran." She had stepped towards him while talking, until she was only inches from Semreh's face. "You're a killer in your own way Semreh, and I only hope we can both come to terms with this in the end."

With that, she turned and went back to her training, clearly dismissing Semreh.

* * *

Semreh was sitting, trying to meditate, but really just looking up at the strange stars of Sluis Van. He'd sat under many sets of stars in his life, but the fact that the little pinpricks of light held back all that darkness always amazed him. As he watched them, he thought about Elena's words.

"_She's right in many ways_." He thought, "_None of us will get out of this unharmed. One way or the other, we'll all have our own war to fight."_

Semreh thought about Halber, a new scar forming around his massive wound. He thought about Elena, wrestling with the thought of her own darkness. Of Theran, preparing to stab his old friends in the back. Semreh realized that they would have to make a choice soon; their souls, or their duty and lives.

Semreh sat up, dropping into a meditative stance, suddenly determined. Maybe this war would try to take away all three, but he wouldn't let it take them from his friends and him without a fight. Closing his eyes and folding his hands in his lap, he began to think.

* * *

The next day, Jedi and Clones split up, each rushing to their own business. Master Nostwa led the refugees to the planned evac area, waving good bye to her padawan over her shoulder. She looked worried, but the truth was that somebody had to be there to make sure none of the evacuees panicked.

Semreh waved back, still putting the finishing touches on a few ideas running through his head. Turning to the remaining Jedi and Clones, he outlined his plan.

"Okay," He said, drawing a circle into the dirt with the toe of his boot. "This is the city perimeter. No doubt there are droids all over the place, but we're only interested in this." He said jabbing his foot into the dirt towards the middle of the city. "The Sep headquarters. It will be less defended than the rest of the city since they won't expect an attack to sneak through the perimeter and get to the Sep communication center. That's where we'll contact the _Fortitude_."

The _Fortitude _was the assault ship that had inserted the Jedi into Sluis Van. It was waiting just outside the system, ready to jump at a seconds notice, either to attack the weakened planet, or rescue the stranded Jedi.

"First, we need a distraction." He said turning to Barca, Fingers, and Ding. "You three are going to make a special visit to the outskirts of town, here." He said, jabbing his finger into the dirt just outside the circle. "The Sluis Van food storage area. You're going to burn it. All of it." The Clones nodded in their faceless helmets, but Fingers raised his hand in a question.

"Sir, Most of the food for the planet is in that place. How do you expect us to burn it all?"

"Orbital strike." Semreh answered, handing them the comlink on his belt. It was keyed to act as a tracking device for the _Fortitude_, so they would know where to send ships to evacuate them in case of emergency. "We'll tell the _Fortitude_to bombard my location, using the comlink as a beacon." Fingers nodded, pocketing the comlink.

"Still," Semreh continued. "I need you to make as much noise as possible about this attack. It has to be a diversion. All right?" The clones snapped their boots together and stood at attention.

"Sir!" They said, and saluted.

"All right. Get going." The Clones ran off, armor dully clanking and rustling.

"What about us sir?" Screech asked, hefting his carbine.

"We've got a meeting with someone very special." Semreh said. "Did you drop some hints to lure our friend to the rendezvous point? Screech nodded. Elena looked pale, and was gripping her lightsaber tightly.

"Good." Semreh stated as he pointed at the diagram on the ground below. "There's a café across the street from the Sep headquarters. That's where we'll meet Theran. Or rather, where he'll come to us. After that, we'll split up. Screech and I will sneak into the headquarters while Elena detains Theran. Agreed?" The two of them nodded, both of them emotionless. Of course, Screech had a helmet on, so it wasn't nearly as impressive.

"All right." He said, dusting his pants off as he got to his feet. "Then we'd better hurry. The others will be starting their diversion soon." Together, they trotted down the deserted road to the city, the early morning sun rising before them. Somehow though, Semreh thought it looked more like a sunset.

As they trotted, Semreh gradually increase his speed till he was besides Screech.

"Did you get the package I asked you for?" he asked quietly. Screech nodded and produced a small vial of a pale green liquid.

"I think I know what you're thinking here." Screech whispered, "And I got to tell you, it won't work unless you've got an extra set of syringes you've been keeping secret from me."

"It has to work." Semreh whispered back hoarsely. "I won't make a friend kill another friend."

"It may come to that anyways." Screech warned. "And if it does, you'd both better be ready." He held his hand out, and Semreh took the small vial from his armored hand.

"Don't worry." He said grinning wolfishly at Screech. "I've got a plan."

* * *

After months of living in the wilderness, Semreh had forgotten how good it felt to lounge in a chair, coolly sipping a drink in the shade. The café wasn't remarkably busy, but a few were about. Most of them ignored Semreh and Elena, who just sat, drinking and staring off into the distance. Neither of them had anything to say to each other.

Above them, Semreh could almost feel the sights of Screech's sniper attachment sweeping the streets and roof tops. Semreh couldn't figure out how he'd managed to sneak to the top of the café roof without arousing suspicion, but had quickly decided that with clone commandos, it was better to not ask questions.

Finally, without warning, a shaggy haired wookie appeared besides them, roaring and pulling a chair out from their table. Semrehsaid nothing, just watching the alien until it gave a very un-wookie smile and began to shrink, collapsing in on itself. A moment later, Theran was standing in front of Semreh and Elena, grinning widely.

"Hey buddy." Semreh said, adding every ounce of contempt he had behind the word buddy. "Come to sell us out to the Seps? Why don't you have a drink?" Theran laughed and pointed at the building across the street.

"Please, you've practically sold yourselves out to the Seps." Theran scrunched his face together, and a second later, Semreh was looking into his own face. "And is the drink your clumsy attempt to poison me? Honestly Semreh, I thought you were smarter than that. "

"Oh, we'll attack them and escape in the confusion." Theran continued mockingly. He laughed loudly, making Semreh shudder slightly.

"You were at that meeting?" Semreh finally said in a resigned voice.

"Just a fly on the wall." Theran was clearly enjoying this. "Actually, one buzzing around your head. I suppose not even your Force can detect me. I was there for your little planning session, when you told Master Nostwa your plans of attack, and even for your little drama with Elena."

Semreh let his shoulder's slump. That was it. If Theran had alerted Sep high command to their plans, then not only would Master Nostwa and her escape be compromised, but the clone commando's attack and the _Fortitudes_attempted rescue. All those people, dead because of him. Standing, Theran stood up, and walked from the café, leaving Semreh to wallow in his grief.

"Want me to take him out?" He heard Screech whisper through his ear piece. "Say the word and I can at least take him down."

"No." Semreh said, slumping into his seat. Then, he felt Elena get up from her seat, and hurry after Theran. Semreh smiled to himself. "Elena's got it."

* * *

Elena didn't know what she was going to do when she caught up to Theran, and she didn't care. She had a fork gripped tightly in her fist, but it would do little good against the changling. All she knew was that that little kriffing sleemowas willing to kill all of them, even the clones in the sky above them, to push his own ends. It had to stop now.

As he turned into an alley, Elena caught up with him. She pushed him into the shadows and spun him around.

"Ah," Theran said, opening his mouth wide to show every one of his clawdite teeth. "Psycho Jedi. I was hoping you'd come after me."

"There is nothing," she growled at him. "I want to do more then take my saber and ram it down your throat, but that won't stop you, will it?" Theran shook his head, grinning madly.

"No, I don't suppose it would." He answered in a bored voice.

"All right." She said, bringing the fork up and, with a sudden flick of her wrist, bringing the prongs of the utensil up so they stuck into his ear. He yelped and tried to change, but Elena twisted slightly, making him grit his teeth in pain.

"Now that I have your attention." She said, putting every ounce of anger and malice into her words. "Listen carefully. You have beaten us. We can't win. Congrats. Still, I think it would take a while to hunt us all down, don't you?" She twisted again, and Theran glared up at her.

"Let me make something clear to you." She continued, leaning in so she was whispering into his ear. "Even if you kill all of us in the end, we…I will live for a while. And while I do, not even the Separatists will protect your parents. We'll find them and…well, you can imagine." The clawdite stopped struggling and looked up at her, eyes flashing with a combination of rage and fear.

"You wouldn't!" He said, though he didn't sound very sure. Elena laughed and pushed, throwing the boy to the ground. "You can't."

"I'm an animal." She shouted, drawing her lightsaber. "That's what you said wasn't it." The boy was already changing, growing larger with every passing second. She had done it. She'd lured the boy into their trap. Now, all she had to do was lose.

* * *

Unit 274 had served across many battlefields during his mechanical life. And while it didn't store that experience gained from those battles like most, it had enough memory to know that an ambush only worked when the ambushees showed up. Of course, the droid didn't worry too much about that; Just kept radioing back to the headquarters that the clone commandos were not yet there, and the Separatist general in charge just kept telling it and it's seven hundred and fifty battle droids , a third of the force garrisoning the city, to stay there, waiting for the clones. The commander had sent them all out, knowing that three clone commandos were a greater threat then one clone commando and a misguided Jedi padawan.

Then, something strange happened the next time Unit 274 called in. Instead of the commander's crisp voice, it heard the sounds of blasterfire and screams. It didn't worry the droid much at all. After all, it was on the other side of the city.

* * *

Semrehhad figured that the general would send the majority of his forces to defend the food storage for the city. After all, that food was used to keep the city's citizens alive and well. Losing it would be a disaster. Of course, he was also banking on the idea that Semreh would follow through with the attack, which he did not. So, instead of defending his headquarters from one padawan and a single clone commando, the general found himself trying to fend off four commandos and a very annoyed, very frustrated padawan. It was over in minutes.

After the last Separatist droid had been destroyed and their officers surrendered, Semreh hurried through the building, finally arriving at the enormous communications center. Jumping into a chair in front of the controls, his fingers danced across the keyboard, sending coordinates and codes out across space.

"Are you still planning to call the _Fortitude_ even though the Seps are ready for them?" Screech asked from behind him. He and the other commandos were guarding the door, waiting for Sep reinforcements. "If the Seps really have an ambush ready, it'll be a slaughter."

"Yes," he answered, still looking intently at the screen. "But I'm also going to use a signal burst asking all nearby Republic fleets to move to this position for rescue of stranded Jedi. Hopefully, someone will answer and arrive to help the _Fortitude_ extract us."

"Hopefully!?" Ding exclaimed. "That's reassuring!"

"Sarcasm really not appreciated right now." Semreh said, still focused on the screen. "This isn't easy you know."

* * *

From the beginning, Semreh had figured that Theran would be spying on them in one form or another. So, while the clones and everyone had thought the plan he'd been telling them was real during those meetings, he'd transmitted the real plans to the commando's helmets using his datapad. When the first team of clone commandos had trotted off to take down the facility, they'd quickly doubled back and set up shop in the buildings across from the headquarters, waiting for Semreh's signal.

Semreh had to keep Elena in the dark about their changes until they were sitting in the café and he knew Theranwasn't watching. While she hadn't been happy, she'd nodded when he gave her something he hoped would assist them in capturing Theran. He'd warned her though that if she couldn't capture him, she'd have to make sure he didn't get away no matter what. She knew what he'd meant. Still, Semreh worried about her. The fight between them had not been an act, and it was only after that that he'd come up with the plan. She walked a thin line. He worried whether she'd A, lose control, or B, not lose enough control.

* * *

Elena had never fought so hard in her life. Despite her splinted leg, she was using every strike, every stroke she knew of Ataru to bring down Theran, but it was too hard. One second, a rancor, the next, a charging bantha. Every time she landed a blow, he'd change into some monster with a hardened shell. The nature of his changing prevented her from causing much damage.

At one point, she almost had him. She'd caught a downward slicing blow of a rancor's claw on her shoulder. She felt her bones buckle, but it was a glancing blow. At that moment, Theran's belly was exposed. Elena could have ended it right there. All she had to do was turn and slice her saber across the exposed flesh, but she hesitated.

Finally, he switched, this time into some creature that reminded her a little of a monkey, but hairless and grey. Its skin was wrinkled and its eyes were wide and bloodshot. In front of it, its two arms, twice the size of its body, were clawed and muscular. On its head, a pair of bat-like ears pressed backwards as Theran roared with the creature's mouth. She tried to get out of the way, but she tripped in her exhaustion and the creature backhanded her, spinning her through the air across the alley. She landed on her back, her ears ringing.

Theran was advancing on her now, speaking taunts and threats through the creature's mouth, but she didn't hear them. Instead, she screwed her eyes shut and waited, until she felt a tug on her tunic as Theran lifted her up with the creature's claws. He smiled, said something, and opened the creature's wide mouth, clearly intent on devouring her.

Elena bit down into the small package hidden in her mouth, breaking the top off of a glass vial. A smooth, warm liquid poured into her mouth. Just a little, but enough. She spat it out, aiming for Theran's mouth. The liquid shot inside and down his throat. Theran dropped her suddenly, jumping back as he looked at her in animalistic horror.

"What have you done!?" He screamed as his body began to melt before her eyes. He was trying to change again, but only half succeeding. As the liquid took effect, parts of his body continued morphing while others stopped halfway through. The result, much to Elena's horror, was some half clawdite half alien monster. Theran roared in frustration as his changing finally stopped, leaving him in mid change.

"Sap from the Fresian bushes." She said, painfully getting to her feet. "You won't die, but your changing days are over. You're coming with us alive." Theran tried to get up, but his misshapen body wouldn't let him. Elena was leaning against the wall of the alley when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Good job Elena." Semreh said with a smile. "I'll take it from here. You go let Barca take a look at you." Elena nodded tiredly and limped out of the dark alley and back into the light.

* * *

Semreh plopped down next to his deformed friend. Ex-friend. Sighing, he let his head hang back till he was looking up at the sky.

"What have you done!?" Theran sobbed through his disfigured face. "Why would you do this to me?" Semreh shrugged and leaned back against the wall.

"You didn't leave us much of a choice." He answered slowly. "You threatened not only our own lives, but the lives of clones, our friends, and Republic citizens. You crossed the line, and you payed." He hauled himself up to his feet, so he was crouching in front of Theran, looking him in the eye.

"See," he said pointing his finger at his friends one remaining eye (the other was covered by folds of sagging skin), "We knew you would be spying on us, so I planted false information for you in those meetings, to bring back to your superiors. We anticipated every petty betrayal you would make and turned it back on you. I figured you couldn't resist gloating about your victory, and you yourself told me you were allergic to the Fresian bush. But we couldn't risk using a syringe on you. You'd see the obvious threat and turn into something a needle couldn't penetrate. No, we needed to make sure you ingested it and end your changing permanently. So, Elena hid a capsule of it in her mouth, and played dead. Your whole fight was a sham. When you were close enough, she spit it at you." Semreh stopped here, letting Theran soak it in.

"You told the Sep general to send droids to ambush us at the storage plant, so we didn't. You told the Seps that the _Fortitude _would evacuate us, but in reality it's a whole Republic fleet. The Seps will be unprepared for this, and we'll escape. You, on the other hand, will go to jail for a long time."

Semreh had prepared himself for this part. He'd prepared himself for the pleading, the threats, and the cries for Semreh to kill him. What he hadn't prepared for was laughter.

"So," Theran said through gasps of breathe, "Are you the one who told Elena to threaten my parents?" Semreh felt his heart skip a beat. He'd told Elena to provoke Theran, to push him into a fight. But threatening his parents.

"Oh, I heard you two fight." Theran said, bursting into laughter again. "And you know what the best part is. You were right. Because, when I looked at her eyes when she said that, I didn't doubt it for a second. I knew she would havekilled innocent people to keep me quiet. So, who gave her the order to do it Semreh, huh? Tell me Semreh, how does it feel to know that she's right to? That you manipulate people and their natures to your benefit? That you see them, not as people, but as pieces in a big chess game?"

Semreh though for a second he might respond, but then shook his head and signaled for Screech to restrain Theran with shock cuffs.

"Desperate words from a broken man." Semreh said dismissively. As Theranwas hauled to his feet, a loud booming noise sounded from over head. They all looked up. Above them, a large Republic fleet was firing on the Separitists, and breaking through the atmosphere. Semreh sighed, and sat down on the grown with a groan of exhaustion.

"Checkmate." He said to Theran as he watched the ships descend.

* * *

A few minutes later Semreh found himself sitting next to Elena. Both of them were exausted, tired, and just waiting for a shuttle to take them off-planet. As a screaming Theran was wrestled to the ground by the four commandos, Elena turned her head, unable to watch.

"We created a monster." She said in a horrified voice. Semreh couldn't help but agree with her.

"Semreh," She said quietly, "I would like it if we never talked about this again."

Semreh leaned back against the wall and nodded. This mission was going to cost him several nights of sleep.

"It wasn't supposed to go like this." He said quietly. "It was only supposed to remove his power."

But it had done much worse.

* * *

The _Fortitude_ had indeed been ambushed shortly after exiting hyperspace. Fortunately, about eight other ships, all coming from different directions, also arrived, rescuing both the besieged ship and it's Jedi commanders. One was commanded by Aubrie Wyn, an old friend of Semreh's.

An hour or two later, Semreh was watching as the half mad clawdite, once his good friend, was practically dragged aboard a shuttle bound for one of the Republics many prison worlds. He turned away, and saw his master, beaming at him. Semreh tried and failed to smile back feebly.

"You did a good job here my young padawan." She said, tussling his hair with a delicate hand. "You got everyone out alive."

"Almost everyone." Semreh said thinking of Theran.

Master Nostwa turned to walk away. She had a report to make to the Council. Before she left though, she looked at him and said, "Theranchose his fate. His life should serve as a lesson for you. Meditate on it." She smiled, and hurried towards the bridge.

Smereh continued wandering about the hanger, searching for familiar faces amongst the Clones and Jedi. Finally, he found a few.

"I'll see you in the field Screech." He said, shaking the commando's gauntleted hand. "It was a pleasure working with you."

"Likewise Commander." He said, before putting his helmet back on. "Oya, sir."

Semreh recognized the word from his studies. It meant "Let's hunt!" in Mandalorian. He smiled back at the faceless clone.

"Oya."

* * *

He continued weaving his way through the crowds of wounded guerillas and bustling clones until he found one med center in particular. Halber was there, with Elena kneeling at his side. She was trying to look amazingly bored, but smiled when Halber nearly decked a med droid who tried to stick him with a needle.

"Like Hell you will!" He yelled as the droid protested. "I already told you; I've gotten that shot alread-"

He stopped short when he saw Semreh approaching, and his face broke into a big smile. Elena turned to, and nodded coolly.

"Hear you're shipping out." She grunted as she helped Halber up into a sitting position.

"Can't give the Seps a rest." He said, chuckling at his own lame rhyme. "Master Nostwa and I leave soon. What about you?"

"Same." Halber answered with a small groan. "Except I'm going to a med ship. Should be fun, provided there aren't any of these droids there." He turned and waved away another round of needles.

Semreh looked at Elena, and she looked back. Somehow, he knew neither of them needed to say anything. Getting to his feet, Semreh dusted his tunic off, said goodbye, and walked away.

* * *

"So you see." Master Nostwa said to the holographic representations of the Jedi Council, "Sluis Van remains in Serpertist hands for now. However, we gained valuable intelligence on the planet and removed a major threat to our intelligence."

"Hmm," Master Yoda said, stroking his chin with his rough fingers. "Disturbing this betrayal is. Reflect, I fear the opinion of the galaxy young Theran's opinion does."

"Unfortunately, we need you and your padawan back into the fight soon." Master Mace Windu said in a stern voice. "Otherwise, we would offer for you to return to Coruscant and make a full report."

"I understand Master." Nostwa said smoothly. "Tell me, where is Master Sirrus's battle group to be deployed."

"Jabiim." Master Shaak Ti answered. "Though you three will take a shuttle to your next command. Master Sirruswill just give you a lift."

"Very well." She said, looking to her left at Master Sirrus. He nodded his head.

"You and your padawan are always welcome on my ship." He said in a gentle voice. "I believe our padawans are old acquaintances after all. I'm sure they'll relish catching up." Master Nostwa nodded. After the past couple months, Semreh would need a friend.

* * *

Semreh was sitting by the _Fortitudes_ viewport, reading an archaic book as the ship streaked through hyperspace. Besides him, Aubrie Wyn, a fellow padawan and friend from Semreh's days at the temple, was pouring over a datapad containing the latest information on healing techniques through the Force.

"I never thought you'd end up a healer." Semreh commented dryly as he looked up from his book. "You never seemed like someone who would want to study that hard." Aubrie laughed and sat back, leaning against the wall of the hallway.

"I never thought I'd see you fighting in a war." She said smiling at him. "All the time you spent in the archives…I thought you'd end up working there or becoming some type of archeologist."

"That was the plan." Semreh said, his face falling. "I suppose I never expected any of us to have to fight like this."

"None of us did." Aubrie whispered back, "But we do what is necessary. Right?"

"Right." Semreh said returning to his book.

"Hey, Semreh." Aubrie said, her voice jerking Semreh back out of his book. "What do you know about Jabiim?" Semreh looked up, and tilted his head backwards thoughtfully.

"Let's see…Jabiim. It has undergone quite a bit of unrest over the years. Pirate attacks, plagues. It's a small planet, but the Republic recently found that it has a large amount of ore beneath its surface, hence why we're trying to take it back." Semreh looked at Aubrie, who had fallen silent.

"Oh, so we're fighting to get the ore?" Aubrie asked, looking a little disappointed.

"Not every war is a glorious rescue." Semreh said, "Sometimes, you've got to get your hands dirty. Sometimes, those wars are just as necessary as the heroic ones." He looked at her again, at how down she looked, and forced a laugh.

"But it's certainly not worth dying for." He grinned at her. "Promise me you don't go doing anything crazy out there. Only I'm allowed to do that kind of stuff. All right?" She grinned back at him a little sadly.

"All right," She said grinning back. "Besides, you owe me for saving your butt here. If I'm in deep, it'll be your turn to bail me out."

"Yeah." He said, giving her a big thumbs up. "I promise. Besides, can't have a girl showing me up. I'd never be able to show my face at the temple again." He laughed and was rewarded by Aubrie's wide carefree smile.

"Yeah right." She shot back with a smile.

* * *

Semreh was sitting meditating on the turret of a tank as it rolled across the battlefield.

"Sir, with all due respect." His clone commander said from inside the tank. "Would you mind not providing every half-ass sniper within a thousand meters the chance to shoot you?"

"Relax commander." Semreh said back, smiling at his commander's worrying attitude. "The enemy forces are in full retreat across the whole front. The only enemy here is the sun."

He looked up again and winced a little as a bit more of his sunburned skin cracked.

"Should've brought something for shade." He said to himself irritably as he swung his legs around and jumped to the ground. He looked around and was surprised to see master Nostwa heading towards him, Jedi robes flapping around her on the sunny plain.

"Master." He said bowing. Through the Force, he felt something rolling off her. Worry, regret, and…apprehension. "What's wrong?"

"Jabiim." Master Nostwa said, putting a hand on Semreh's shoulder. "Jabiim has fallen." Semrehlooked at her, dumbstruck. For a moment, all he could here was the wind rustling the grass across the plain. It was as if…As if for a moment, he was looking down at the scene from above.

"And Aubrie?" He heard himself say. "What about Aubrie?" Semreh felt rather than saw Master Nostwa lower her head solemnly.

"Dead, along with the rest of the Jedi except Skywalker. He led the evacuation efforts while the rest of the Jedi bought them time to escape."

Semreh saw himself looking at Master Nostwa. He couldn't describe from where or from what angle, not even if he wanted too. His mind felt like it was everywhere and nowhere. Like it had disappeared into the abyss.

"I didn't even feel it." He heard himself whisper quietly. Master Nostwa looked at him questioningly.

"Her death." He said, more to himself than anyone else. "I didn't even feel it. Not in the Force. Not even now, when you tell me about it. All I feel is emptiness."

"Then you're already better off than the rest of us." Master Nostwa said, turning back to the column of troopers, merging into the crowd. Semrehsuddenly felt himself back in his body, as if he'd stumbled and fallen, and all the pain he felt, the choking tightness in his chest returned. He spunon his heel, keeping his face impassive as he climbed back aboard the hovertank. His clone commander looked at him for a second, then ducked back down into the tank, leaving Semreh to sit on top alone.

"Sorry Aubrie." He thought as tears began to fall from his eyes. He still kept his face emotionless, but he couldn't seem to stop the delicate droplets from falling. "I broke my promise. I still owe you. But the Seps will pay!"

* * *

"I fear we are destroying these children." Master Nostwa said to the holographic representation of Mace Windu. "We are thrusting them into battle as teenagers! This is not the Jedi way."

"And what do you suggest we do?" The stern Master said. "We don't have any options. Besides, padawan have accompanied masters on missions for centuries. It has always helped mold the young with experience."

"Well, I don't think they should be exposed to this type of experience. Mass death, brutal murders...Master Windu, are these the lessons you want the next generation of Jedi to learn."

Nostwa already knew she couldn't win this fight. But she knew sometimes the point wasn't winning a fight, but fighting it.

"I'm sorry Master Nostwa." Mace Windu said, sounding truly sympathetic. "I knew Aubrie well. She was supposed to study after me at the Temple. She was one of our best healers. And she died a Jedi."

"No," Master Nostwa cried angrily. "She was left to die on a dark planet abandoned by Republic. And I fear the whole Order may be in just as much danger."

"Watch your tongue!" Master Windu said sharply. "That sounds very close to treason."

"I-I'm sorry Master Windu." Nostwa said, bowing her head. "I just don't know what the Jedi Order is supposed to be anymore. Are we soldiers or monks."

"We are the light holding back the darkness of the galaxy." Master Windu answered calmly. "We hold back the darkness. Remember that." The hologram wavered and disappeared before Master Nostwa, leaving her feeling tired and depressed.

"_Yes Master Windu."_ She thought turning back to the battlefield and her clone troopers. "_We stand by the Republic, fighting side by side for the light. But what happens when we are left alone in the dark."_


	49. Chapter 49 Beginning

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* * *

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Ahh, hard to believe I began this one year ago. Pretty cool. Anyways, here comes the beginning of the Jedi Rebellion. Thanks to everyone for reviewing and supporting this story.

Scout gasped for breathe, letting her back lean heavily on a tree. She reached up to her shoulder, reaching around and feeling for one of the knives she kept in a holster on the upper right corner of her back, just below the shoulder.

There was a whistling noise, and Scout instinctively ducked, letting a trio of knives bury themselves into the bark inches above her head. She tumbled forward, hurling a knife up towards the tree where the knives had flown from.

"_He moved."_ She thought belatedly as she heard a dull thud from behind her. There was a flash of the Force, and Scout suddenly knew exactly how her master would strike. Not bothering to duck this time, she simply reached back with her right hand, catching her master's arm in a tight wristlock before his downward blow could strike her head. Twisting his arm and pivoting on her heel, she pulled her master's arm down as she brought her free hand up in a palm strike aimed at his chest.

Yasuo raised both his extra arms into an x, catching her blow at its center. It was enough that, had Scout not been gripping his other arm, he might have flown back several feet. Yasuo's forth arm flashed out forcing Scout to take a quick step back and break her grip on Yasuo's wrist.

"Very good Scout." He said, dropping all four of his arms into a fighting stance. "You countered my attacks excellently. Your precognition is sharpening."

Scout smiled. That was one of the many things her master had been teaching her over the past three months. Sharpening her skill at Battle Precognition was, as Yasuo put it, the only way you will be able to hold up against the more violent battles. It gave her a split second advantage over her enemies and allowed her to, no matter how many attacks there were, use her intelligence and reflexes to avoid and counter them.

The Force flashed in Scout and she looked up. Yasuo's arms blurred, flashing towards his own belt. His four arms each gripped a long belt knife, each of which was, a second later, zooming towards Scout like bullets. However, Scout had started moving even before the daggers were drawn, sidestepping three and throwing one of her own knives to intercept the last. They impacted with loud clangs and fell away, spinning. Scout stepped forward calmly, and tugged her wrist back, pulling the small wire wrapped around it taunt and snapping the knife back into her hand.

"Very impressive." Yasuo said, catching his own knife as it arched through the air towards him. "I barely saw you tie the knife to your wrist."

"I learned it from you master." Scout said, grinning back before lunging forward with her knife, aiming a thrust at her master's chest. The two were really going at it now, sinking into a steady rhythm of strike and counterstrike. Scout tried sweeping her master's legs out from under him, but only receives a very powerful dropkick to her shoulder. Yasuo tried overwhelming Scout with all four of his arms, but his assault was repelled by a single upwards strike from her elbow that left even him a little dazed.

"_She's getting very good." _Yasuo thought, backpedaling. He raised his arm to his mouth, wiping away a thin line of blood from his cut lip. "_But she has yet to master the technique_."

The master moved forward now, holding nothing back. Scout was now the one backpedaling, trying desperately to deflect Yasuo's strikes. However, two landed on her side, already well bruised from months of such sparring, and another narrowly missed her temple.

"All right," Scout said, stepping back, clutching her side with a painful grimace. "You win."

Yasuo smiled and stepped forward, already prepared to begin his critics on her form and defense, when Scout brought her head back, then forward suddenly, ramming her forehead into the center of Yasuo's face. He stepped back, already throwing up his arms to ward off attacks, but Scout was already behind him, wrapping her arms up and around the Master's upper set of arms, pinning them.

Yasuo sighed, then reached back with his lower set of arms, pulling Scout of and, with a derisive flick of his wrists, tossing her over his head and to the ground. He drew a knife, holding it above her face as he glared down at her. They sat there, panting for a few moments. Then, Yasuo took his knee off her chest, and holstered his knife with a grin.

"Clever." He said, looking down at her. "You have all the makings of a great fighter. Improvisation, cunning, and, if I do say so myself, an amazing skill at 'fighting dirty'."

"Not very Jedi-like." She admitted shamefacedly.

"Perhaps not." Yasuo agreed. "But it's not the way you fight, but what you fight for. Remember that."

Scout nodded, but couldn't shake the feeling that, unlike the rest of the Jedi, she would never be as strong or brave, and that these dirty tricks were just her way of barely staying ahead. She had had many such lessons with Master Yasuo over the past months. As he put it, learning was as much a part of her training as physical workout.

* * *

Her training had begun with intense cross country physical training. Scout and her Master had, for at least a month, remained on the move, never making camp in the same place. They hauled several kilos of supplies on their back, making every step feel like a hundred. Yasuo taught her survival skills, including how to hunt and cook her own food, how to make makeshift shelters, and many other useful skills.

Over the month, her body had gradually responded to the training. It wasn't that she was now a body builder, especially not those women on the holovids who looked…well, like men. Rather, her body had accumulated the type of muscle grown over time, turning her hard and tough. Her speed had also risen, the result of months of tough hiking.

During their hikes, Scout had shared her story, and the story of what had happened to the Jedi Order during the Clone Wars. It was difficult. Yasuo had been isolated from the galaxy for many years, and had missed something close to the past hundred years. Naturally, he was a little behind.

Still, the alien master seemed to quickly accept what Scout told him. He had nodded when she spoke, his eyes bright behind his tight grey mask, inquisitive about everything he missed. Scout told him everything. How her first master had died in the sands of Geonosis, how she had struggled to remain a padawan, who her second master, Master Maruk, had taken her under his wing, and how he had died soon after. Yasuo seemed particularly interested with their mission to Vijun, wherethe Viscount of Vijun had tried to manipulate the number of midichlorians, and had driven the entire planet insane.

"It goes against the nature of the Force." Yasuo had said disgustedly.

Scout was forced to agree. She still remembered the sickening crawling energy of Vijun, how it had made her shudder almost uncontrollably, how Whie himself had felt the madness.

Scout had continued, elaborating on how the war had ended, and the Temple had fallen. Images of Clone troopers and her own fight in the ponds of the Room of a Thousand Fountains flashed through her head as she spoke, but it felt good, as if she was releasing pent up frustration and sadness.

She had left out the part about seeing through Whie's eyes before he died. It was something private in her book, and she didn't want her new master to think he was working with…well, with a loon. Instead, she only said she had fainted and been dragged into the sewers by Semreh, a fellow padawan. Eventually, she came to their plan to launch an insurrection against the Empire, which Yasuo seemed to applaud, much to Scout's surprise.

"I thought you'd think it was foolish." She'd said sheepishly.

"Nonsense." He snorted in his gravelly voice. "The Empire declared war on your order, and no doubt on the Makukai as well. When you leave to fight, I will certainly go with you. As your master of course."

"Does that mean we will continue training off planet?" Scout had said hopefully, but Yasuo only ruffled her hair with a big hand.

"No, I think we have two months worth of work still."

And so they did. The next month, they settled back at the clearing with the stump, making a more permanent shelter. There, Scout was trained by Yasuo to fight in the Makukai style. I was based on four levels of skill. The first level, called Rishuu, meaning Coming of Hardship, was centered on learning the opening stances. The basic stances more often than not were based on extending ones arms with palms facing out, so incoming strikes could be deflected easier.

The second tier was called Kogarasha, meaning Crippling Wind. It consisted of hours and hours of brutal combat. Scout lost count of the number of times she went toe to toe against Yasuo, using everything from knives, sharpened sticks, and, most often, bare hands. Scout also began training her hands to provide maximum impact, by continuously attacking the large stump in the clearing of their camp. By the end of the month, it had become indented after weeks of pounding, and now the pale wood was a deep red, stained from the constant impact of Scout's bloody hands, which were now covered in calluses so her hands, no matter how hard she hit even steel, she felt little pain.

The third part was called Natso, or Loneliness. Yasuo had trained her for two weeks in what was basically survival training. He taught her everything from hunting, to fashioning all types of traps, to tools…everything. Another part of this was training with the knives.

The knives they used were about nine inches or longer, but less than a foot long. Their hilts were wrapped in wire, creating both a handle and a way for a skilled fighter to create a grappling hook with the wire. The blades themselves ended in a small hook like device. By attaching one end of the wire to one's wrist, with a proper throw, one could use it to catch branches of passing trees. Or enemies.

Part of her training had been a gift; a set of many knives she could keep in a series of hidden and overt sheaths going around her waist, over her shoulders, and down by her boots. The set also contained many tools, extra wire, pouches for supplies, an interesting sticky paste that Yasuo said could be used to patch up space hull armor if need be, etc, etc. Soon, Scout found herself able to use just about everything in the kit.

The final tier, called Uraroka (Peace after Storm), was the most difficult, and Scout had yet to master it. It was the meditative part, consisting of hours of Scout sitting, cross-legged in her Jedi robes while Master Yasuo murmured about letting the natural power of the Force to flow through her. Scout of course more often than not murmured about his crackpot ideas. Yasuo was patient though, only telling her that she'd know mastery when she felt it.

So, they'd continued training, making regular contact with Sonya back in the village. She said that negotiations were going well, but they still needed to fight the chief to prove their worth. It seemed primitive according to her, but was very necessary. Yasuo however, disagreed.

"You are stronger." Yasuo had said, when he heard about this. "But you are at a natural disadvantage against Kilmaulsi. They are stronger, faster, and probably more ruthless. So," He had said with a grin, "You won't fight them."

"Why not?"

"Because, there's no sense in taking that kind of risks when they listen to everything I say."

* * *

And so, Scout's training continued, intensifying over the weeks. She and her master constantly sparred and, although Scout had yet to come close to beating him, she was getting better. Even her saber skills had increased, giving her her own unique style. It was something of a cross between the elegant combat of a martial artist, the graceful skill of a Jedi, and the explosive fighting of a cantina brawler.

Ultimately, Scout would probably never be able to win against full fledged Jedi. Yasuo knew that her Force abilities were just too weak. She would have to win the way other normal beings beat Force sensitives; through cunning and resourcefulness. That was not something Yasuo could wholly teach her on his own; she'd have to learn it herself.

Scout sat down heavily against a tree, breathing heavily. Sparring always took a lot out of her, and Yasuo had to admit he too was finding it increasingly tiring. Either way, they were done for the day, and neither was disappointed to have a break.

"Go wash up." Yasuo ordered Scout, unbuckling his belt from his waist and plopping it onto the ground. "Use that stream we passed on the way here. I've got some business to attend to."

"With who?" Scout said, getting to her feet and shrugging off her robes, leaving her in her tunic.

"One of the nearby villages. Then, we'll start the trek to the capital."

"The capital?"

Yasuo waved his hand dismissively. "You know, that village you arrived at when you first came here."

"That was the capital?" Scout exclaimed in a surprised voice.

"Yeah, and it's where the various Kilmaulsi clans are gathering to discuss going to war. So, we'll be there."

"Does that mean we'll be going off planet?" Scout said excitedly. She was tired of months of tramping through the woods with only her serious master to talk to.

"Yes," Yasuo answered solemnly, "Then, we all go to war."

* * *

"Commander Daichi." Fless said, striding into the Shield Chaser's office, Sten following closely. "We have some news."

Daichi dropped the datapad he was viewing, sighing. "Aren't you supposed to be out in the field?"

"Just got back a few minutes ago. Thought you would like my report in person today. Some very interesting intel." Fless gave a manic grin, and dropped into the chair and reclined. Sten silently followed, but kept his stance professional and steely.

"Our contacts have picked up a lot of chatter over Imperial comms over the past couple weeks." Sten said in his deep baritone voice. "Lots of troop movements and ship deployment. The fact that the Separatists have been pretty much mopped up indicates there is an alternative target."

Daichi leaned back, thinking. "You think they're targeting us."

Fless shrugged. "Could be any planet showing resistance to the new regime. Remember Kashyyyk."

Daichi nodded. It was hard to forget. "Have you determined how many allies we have behind us yet?"

Fless activated a datapad at his belt, pulled it off, then began reading. "Polus seems willing. The Empire has begun taxing their exports of carbonite and metal. Still, they'll take some convincing. There's also several planets that are willing to support, but not join us, including several rebel groups."

"What about independent military units?" Daichi asked. "Where is the 44th?"

Fless scrolled down the list on his datapad. "Rostu's renegades?" Their out their somewhere, but most of them have probably gone into hiding, or joined the Empire by now."

Daichi nodded. The 44th Division had been a distinguished unit in the GAR, under the command of one Nick Rostu. He was supposedly an excellent soldier had had fought alongside Mace Windu himself. Naturally, Daichi thought he and the rest of the 44th, one of the few units not composed entirely of clones, would be excellent the clones, they were not bound by thier lifelong training.

"Imperial records place Rostu on Coruscant a few months ago." Fless continued, "He supposedly killed two Imperials and is on the run somewhere. Still, our sources have picked up a few recruits from the 44th. I sent them to the base for training."

Daichi shook his head. Fless's 'sources' were the bounty hunter guild, a collection of bases and starports across the galaxy that served as drop off points for bounty hunters. While Daichi understood the necessity of gathering allies this way, he certainly didn't like associating with bounty hunters, even professionals. Placing bounties on their allies, natural enemies of the Republic, would appear normal to anyone checking up on the lists of bounties on the market, even Imperials. Their bounties, and recruitment efforts, simply hid in the crowd.

The fact that it also seemed remarkably effective was a bonus. Bounty hunters found political prisoners, criminals, and former Separatists, and dragged them to a shuttle that Fless then piloted to the base. The base itself was being codenamed Lantern. The Lantern was nearing completion, and was now a carefully concealed set of hangers, barracks, and defense installations dug out of the rotating asteroids. The Lantern was also the place where new recruits were being sent, trained for combat by Bolt, Bren, and Gavin.

"What about the Sons and Daughters of Freedom? I'm sure they'd help."

"They received enormous casualties at the Battle of Praesitlyn. Well over fifty percent by the war's end. They," He said pointedly, "Have probably been disbanded."

"Were they ever official?" Daichi said with an amused grin.

"Technically, they were privateers." Sten pointed out. "And a few escaped the battle. Again, we've had a few recruits from that particular group, but not a ton. And as for Rahm Kota's unit…well, nobody's been able to find them, not even the Empire."

"So how many soldiers do we have exactly at Lantern?"

"Including those we have gotten from recruiting centers at our contacts planets…about ten thousand."

Daichi whistled from behind his own datapad. "You've been busy."

"Yeah." Fless agreed with a tired sigh. "We've made contact with passive resistance groups that need to get members off planet in addition to our network of bounty hunters and recruitment centers. There's one called Whiplash located on Coruscant that gave us a freighter full of angry Bothans looking for a fight. Least a hundred."

"Jeez." Daichi whistled again, applauding softly in approval. "A good catch."

"Point is that our numbers are swelling, and that's just the troops being trained on the asteroid." Fless continued. "There's also all the units being deployed by the Commonality, plus Naboo, plus Polus-"

"I get it, I get it." Daichi said, raising a hand. "With all this troop movement, it will be hard for us to remain unnoticed."

"I'm afraid it's only a matter of time sir." Sten warned quietly. "These troop movements are obviously directed at a target, and it's likely it's us, or one of our allies."

Daichi considered this new intel. On the one hand, sending an alert out to all their allies could give them the edge they needed if the Empire tried a lightning strike against them. On the other hand, if there was a mole or if they were being watched by Imperial intelligence, then they would just be revealing their allies to them.

"We'll run it by Nield and the Jedi." Daichi said finally. "It's their rebellion. What about Jedi?"

Fless laughed slightly, and even Sten cracked a grim smile. "The Jedi are either all dead or really good at hiding."

"We tried to track a few down." Sten elaborated. "Master Shaak Ti has disappeared, but was thought dead at the Jedi Temple. Still, Imp units are looking for her, so we can assume she's out there somewhere. Same with Kota, and a few others. Not to mention the dozens of unaccounted for regular Jedi out there somewhere."

"So, we've got nothing."

"Pretty much." Fless answered. "Looks like we're stuck with the amazing padawan pack and their grandpa."

Daichi forced a wry grin towards Fless. The man was always joking, and never seemed to take anything seriously, even war. Still, he was one of the best intelligence officer he'd ever seen, able to connect apparently worthless points of information into a clear picture.

"Anything else?" Daichi asked, ready to end the conversation.

"Yes actually." Sten pulled out a piece of flimsyplast, placing it on the desk. "It's called the Eagle project. Some type of new project of the Empire. Ship or something."

Daichi looked at the photo. It looked like a ship, but was bulky. It was long and rectangular, most of its mass based on a long rectangular hull that narrowed at the engines. About halfway through, the ship had a pair of wing-like triangles that each housed a pair of secondary engines. The ship also seemed to have a wide array of missile tubes, at least three batteries to a side. However, what disturbed Daichi was a note above the front half of the ship, the long rectangle.

"It's an empty shell." Daichi said, looking up at them.

"Not quite." Fless corrected. "They have some type of launching device in place. We think they're intending to add some type of heavy ion weapon, and that this is just the prototype."

"It's comparable to a _Victory_-class Star Destroyer in size." Sten continued. "And, if our guess is right, the Empire is planning to start producing en masse."

"But not if we get there first." Daichi finished. "I see where you're going with this. Very good." He looked at it again, and his face fell. "Still, I really don't like the looks of this. Can you find its development base?"

"Give me a week or two." Fless answered.

* * *

Semreh watched as Jolon stood before a line of automated turrets, his hands moving at lightning speed as the turrets flashed blaster fire at him. Every one of the bolts connected with his hands, dissipating with tiny bursts of the Force.

Besides Semreh, Tara was watching in rapt attention. She seemed fascinated with every aspect of the Force. Jolon still thought she didn't have enough control, but he had put safe blocks on her mind that limited how much of the Force she could draw to her. She still had little outbursts where she lost control, but they were no longer as frequent. At the very least, there were less earthquakes.

* * *

According to Jolon, the Force manifested itself in people in very different ways. For instance, Quinlan Vos was suited to stealth and other abilities that some considered skirting the dark side, while Bariss Offee had immersed herself in the healing arts, just like Jolon claimed he had, though he obviously had many other talents. Semreh himself had a natural affinity for the manipulation of energy. Not just Force lightning, though that was the obvious example, but energy in general.

As for Tara, she had an affinity for telekinesis. While beginning her training, Jolon had put her through the same rigorous training he'd put Semreh through to develop her control and focus. One of these, the dreaded, rock spinning around the hand technique, had taken Semreh several long and frustrating weeks to master. He'd warned her about it beforehand.

"It'll take a while." He whispered to her after Jolon had given her the pebble and turned his back. "Jolon wants you to learn control though. It took me a few weeks."

Of course, he was later surprised to see Tara manipulating the rock as if it were no big deal. Within the first week, she had progressed to a point that had taken Semreh weeks. Though he felt a mild dismay that the girl had made so much progress, he was also a bit happy.

"When will you teach her to manipulate Force lightning?" He asked one day during one of his and Jolon's training sessions.

"Never." He said, with such blunt honesty that Semreh misjudged a step during a Force propelled leap and landed flat on his face.

"Never!" He sputtered. "Why? You taught me!"

"Because I believed you could master it. She cannot." Jolon then explained how he had felt through the Force that, despite her obvious skill with the Force, she would never be able to master Electric Judgment.

"Her obvious skill with telekinesis should serve her well enough." He'd said assuringly. "And there's also the whole 'making earthquakes large enough to destroy towns' thing." Jolon had looked at Semreh, then had nodded towards Tara, meditating several meters from them. "I do believe, however, she has an unusual skill at manipulating the minerals and earth. That would explain how she triggers earthquakes and other natural disasters everywhere she goes."

"And her ease at manipulating the pebbles." Semreh added with a sudden revelation. "I had a friend who could do the same thing." Semreh thought back to Mak Lotor, a fellow padawan left dead on Jabiim. He too had an unusual ability to create tremors in the ground, though not on the scale that Tara had.

Jolon nodded. "Exactly. So, I think I'll train her in that fashion. After all, you never know when an earthquake could come in handy."

So, Jolon and she had taken to exploring the underground labyrinths of the Chaser base. The base itself was connected directly to the abandoned sewer system of the capital city, making it an excellent space for Tara to practice. Semreh himself had seen the results. She could now use the Force to lift huge chunks of earth and hurl them across a field by combining her natural skill at telepathy with her manipulation of rocks and minerals. In short, she was getting better.

Tara and Semreh had also grown close during this time. She acted like the best friend he'd not had since the war began, having distanced himself from the rest of his fellow padawans once the war started. Especially after Jabiim.

Still, their mutual dislike for Jolon, a hard taskmaster, had made them appreciate the moments they had off from training. They had walked through Zehava enjoying what time Jolon gave them, mostly just people watching. Tara had been delighted.

"I never used to be able to just walk through a city." She'd said one day during one of their strolls. "Before I just went around cities for miles and miles. I never really got the chance to just walk around."

Semreh couldn't claim to understand. He had grown up in the densely populated Coruscant, where there was no such thing as countryside. Still, he just let some of her happiness and awe of something new to her radiate onto him. It helped ease the thought that the whole peaceful city may soon be under siege.

They spent a lot of time in the city. Semreh recounted his adventures with Scout and as a padawan, while Tara told stories of her life on the road and began giving him a taste for music. It was one of those mutual learning situations, and Semreh had to admit he enjoyed it.

* * *

Jolon lowered his hands as the turrets slacked their fire off. He let the sleeves of his robes fall back over his arms and turned to the padawans. Semreh, who had seen this technique before, was still baffled about how it worked. Tara, seeing it for the first time, was even more confused.

"So wait," She said, looking at Jolon suspiciously, "Were you absorbing the bolts with the Force, or simply shielding your hands with energy?"

"A little of both." Jolon explained with a shrug. "This technique is called Force Augmentation. See, before the creating of the lightsaber, Jedi and Sith would fight, not with lightsabers, but with weapons augmented with the Force. For instance, an augmented sword could easily block a strike from a lightsaber, and absorb blaster bolts." Jolon sat on a stump, already rewrapping his arms in bandages. "Of course, with the creating of the lightsaber, a weapon that required less strain on the Force and the Jedi's concentration, Force Augmentation was used much less. However, it has its uses."

"Like if we're disarmed?" Tara asked. "We could use it to protect ourselves."

"Yesss." Jolon said slowly, "But Semreh in particular will need to master it."

Semreh jerked in surprised. "Why master Jolon?"

"Because, the next technique I want to teach you relies on this." Jolon raised one of his arms, angleing it sideways so Semreh and Tara could see its length. There was a slow burst of the Force, and Semreh suddenly felt a powerful, yet invisible energy field surrounding Jolon's arm.

"Now," He said, turning it around so they could see its entire surface, and placing one hand on his upper arm around the bicep. "This is what happens when you augment tour arm. As you can see, it is protected from energy attacks just as my hands were before. Now." he said, and there was a flash of energy, both physical and Force related. Electricty began coursing up and down Jolon's arm, rotating constantly like the pebble drill he had given Semreh ages ago, but on a grander scale.

"You see." He continued, keeping his arm straight. "This technique is the ultimate lethal attack. It requires an enormous amount of energy, but it provides you with a one hit kill for use in desperate circumstances." He let the Force flow out of him, releasing his hold on it.

"How does it work?" Tara asked, her interest peaked.

Jolon, already healing his arm, looked down at her. "It is similar to using a basic burst of Force lightning, but rather than letting it fly wildly from your fingertips, you focus it, altering its direction back along your arm, using your own body as a conductor. This high concentration of energy in your arm, along with the use of Force Augmentation, let's you punch through just about any defense. Even cortosis would be like paper to this."

Jolon continued, but no longer seemed to be paying attention. "Once you penetrate your target's defenses, be it a tank or a person, you can release that pent up energy, effectively killing them from the inside out."

Semreh remembered the trees from before and nodded. With all that energy bouncing around inside a body, it would have to go somewhere, and would no doubt damage the being on its way out.

"And you'll be teaching that technique to us?" Tara said eagerly, but Jolon shook his head. "No, just Semreh. I have a few different exercises for you."

Tara nodded but looked disappointed. She obviously was looking forward to learning better control, but no doubt wanted to learn everything else she could from Jolon. After all, there was a war coming.

"Very well." Semreh said, "How do we begin?"

* * *

CTA-132 was not a great roommate. Oh sure, he was neat and clean, and never did anything that might disturb his own roommates, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was the lack of conversation about anything above the mission.

C-41, a frontline, battlefield soldier at heart, disliked black ops stuff. Even while training with the ARCs, he'd hated it. The fact that he had now been reduced to checking up on a backwater admiral who had his hands in slaving was even worse.

C-41, who had once been known to follow the world's deadliest battle droids into tunnels where an ambush could lie anywhere, now spent his days in the _Regal's_ database, shifting through endless amounts of data that Admiral Amistad had neglected to organize. However, all of that, thank the Force, was coming to an end.

"We have enough data to incriminate Amistad." CTA-132 told the miniature hologram of Tarkin. "Over the past six months, since the end of the Clone Wars, it's become evident that he's made contact with the Melida/Daan government and our own Imperial Command many times. However, there is also an unknown third party."

Tarkin looked interested, rubbing his chin in interest. "Go on."

C-41, uncomfortable with these types of proceedings, continued a little hesitantly. "The admiral has been in contact with a few different slaver groups, including their benefactor, who has been careful to remain anonymous. However, there has been considerable traffic between the two. Troopers have reported seeing unmarked _Threstal_-class picket ships docking with the _Regal_. According to them, it was prisoner transfers, but I have my doubts considering the amount of money the slavers have been pocketing in Amistad's bank accounts."

"I see." Tarkin said. "And you have evidence backing this up?"

"Yes sir." CTA-132 affirmed. "In addition to records and clone trooper testimonies, there have been… incidents on the surface."

"Such as?" Tarkin asked in anticipation.

CTA-132 shrugged. "There have been numerous attacks that were covered up by Amistad as rouge Separatist units. Of course, the towns and villages in question were far from civilization, and took heavy casualties. I suspect many of these 'casualties' are now slaves."

"So, Admiral Amistad deals some innocent civilians out to the slavers, covers it up, and the slavers cut him some profit."

"That's how it looks sir, yes." C-41 stood at attention, eyes front, back straight.

"Very well gentlemen. I don't want you pursuing this any further." For the first time C-41 remembered, his attention slipped, and he stared at the Governor.

"Excuse me sir?" he said, sliding back into his stance. "Don't you wish for us to bring charges against the admiral?"

"That is now a matter for internal security." Tarkin answered sharply. "Something the two of you would do well to keep your noses out of. For now, continue to scour the planet for the Jedi. They remain a threat to be dealt with. Understood?"

"Yes sir." The pair of clones said in unison. They stayed at attention until the small holographic Tarkin dissolved. Then, CTA-132 let loose a string of impressive Huttese curse words.

"So, the whole past couple months were a waste!" he said, throwing one of his wrists knives at the wall in anger. It stuck there, quivering. CTA-132 took a few deep breathes, and was calm. "Now we find the Jedi. Shouldn't take long. Jedi never could stand letting innocents die."

C-41 nodded. "Should I contact the mercs? They'll want to get started right away."

CTA-132 looked into the distance for a moment, as though not really listening, then nodded. "Yeah, tell them to start picking targets for bombings. Heavily populated targets. We'll need a lot of dead bodies to draw out a Jedi." He turned, pulled out the knife, and thrust it back into his wrist armor with a grunt. Then, he left the room, murmuring something about a comlink call. C-41, feeling unconcerned now that he wasn't behind a desk, lay back, and slept.

* * *

The pain stopped. The man opened his eyes and looked up. Well, one of his eyes. The other's sight was blocked, cloaked in darkness. The man pushed himself into a sitting position and looked around. He was surrounded by stormtroopers, each one carefully aiming blasters or holding stun batons. The man did nothing, simply sitting. In front of him, a pair of dark figures stepped forward. One was heavily cloaked in dark robes, and looked out from the shadows with yellow eyes.

_When you look at the dark side, the dark side looks back._

The proverb had leapt unbidden to his mind, the remnant of who he'd been. The old man stepped forward, his massive guardian standing at his shoulder. The man felt he'd seen him before, a remnant of one of his many tortures. He was at least seven feet tall, and was certainly not human.

"Do you know what you are?" The yellow eyes asked, leaning towards him.

"I am a Makukai." The man offered hesitantly.

"Who are?" The yellow eyes asked.

"An order of Force users." He looked down at his hands and saw he was dressed in a black combat suit that clung to his skin. Upon further observation, he saw certain parts, such as his chest, fists, and parts lower body, were extra protected with a durasteel covering. Meant to protect his vulnerable organs, but give maximum mobility.

He looked up at the yellow eyes. "They are all dead." He said, with a certainty he couldn't explain.

"Yes." The yellow eyes said back.

"So what does that make me?"

Sudden pain exploded in his head, sending his mind reeling. He fell back, trying to clutch his head, but suddenly held by invisible restraints. All thought was obliterated for a few minutes, and the man writhed on the table tearing at his invisible chains.

The pain stopped. The man looked up, trying to see with both eyes, but unable. He reached up with one hand, and felt a mask on the right side of his face. The mask felt metallic, and seemed to go from the left side of his chin, across and up in a moon shape so it covered his nose, but left his left eye free to see, and across again once it reached his forehead.

"Do you know who you are?"

"I'm a Makukai." He gasped.

"Good." The yellow eyes gleamed. "And they are?"

"Force users." He managed to say despite the confusion going through his brain. "They use the Force."

The yellow eyes sat, complacent with his answer for a moment. Then, they seemed to flash, illuminating the dark shadows sourounding them.

"Do you remember why this is happening?"

The man shook his head.

"It's because you were ungrateful." The yellow eyes turned, nodding to the side, and a second later, the world flashed with pain.

The pain stopped.

"Do you know what you are?"

_**R and R my friends. Next should be up soon.**_


	50. Chapter 50 Calm Before the Storm

Semreh stood next to a large holoprojector in the operations room of the Chaser base. Fless and Daichi had just finished debriefing them all on the Imperial movements and the supposed Fenrir project. Fless had left for a week, returning with info on the ship and its port.

Now, they had set up a large slideshow of schematics, star maps, and other info they'd gathered. It was a hurried session, so only Semreh, Tara, and Jolon were present, along with Captain Templeton, Nield, and Daichi.

"It is meant to be a fast striking dreadnaught. A deterrent for pirates and other rebel groups. " He explained, pointing at a large holographic representation of the ship. "As you can see, a large amount of its size is based in the engines, and it appears to have very few weapons systems."

"I see." Nield said, looking at Captain Templeton, who coughed. "Do we have anything that can match that?"

"Our _Dreadnaught_-class ships have plenty of fire power." He assured. "They'd tear that thing apart."

"Ahh," Fless interrupted. "But then we have this." He pointed at the front half of the ship, indicating the long rectangle part. "This part here carries several tubes and batteries of concussion missiles, but that's just the cover." He looked at Sten, who stood up to address the assembled audience.

"The ship appears to have something resembling a DOKAW launcher in the front." Sten pointed at the long rectangular half of the ship. "This here is where the ship would load its ammunition. Now," He said with a pause. "Does everyone know the difference between types of shields?"

Everyone nodded silently, but Tara looked around and sheepishly raised a hand. "Um, country girl, so we didn't have a lot of shields."

Captain Templeton stepped forward and brought up an image of a ship. "There are two basic shields; ray shields and particle shields. Ray shields protect from energy based attacks like blaster bolts and lasers, while particle shields protect from attacks transported physically, like a missile or asteroid."

"Most starfighters are protected by ray shields, but few have enough room for both. They rely on armor instead. The same cannot be said for capital ships." Templeton looked at the assembly. "The key to most battles is to break through either the ray shields or particle shields, and then attack with the type of weapon that the enemy is vulnerable to. For instance, most commanders will fire volleys of turbolaser fire, followed quickly by a volley of missiles. The laser fire creates an opening in the particle shield and allows a missile volley to connect."

"Ah," Tara said, feigning understanding.

"Anyways," Fless continued, "DOKAWs, or De-Orbiting Kinetic Anti-emplacement Weapons, are used by poor planetary governments who can't provide capital ships as a substitute for an airstrike. Basically, it's a big heavy bullet you can fire from space. With that speed, it's like a meteor strike you can aim."

"However its uses are limited. While entering the atmosphere, DOKAW are subject to atmospheric resistance, just like meteors, making them highly inaccurate."

"Excuse me." Tara asked, raising her hand a little timidly. "But why put an inaccurate weapon on a ship? Hitting a moving ship isn't like hitting a planet or a city?"

There was universal murmuring in the room. Tara had made a good point. Most ships were reasonably maneuverable, making any single shot weapon ineffective.

"True." Semreh agreed. "What is the point of this weapon when the Empire can use Star Destroyers for the same affect?"

"Let me explain a theory of mine." Fless brought up another image. Two ships, including the Fenrir ship, were facing off. "Now, a DOKAW is inaccurate because of atmospheric resistance throwing it off course. However, this is negated in space, where there is no friction. Not only that, but due to the lack of this friction, the DOKAW has an enormous amount of range."

"Laser shots and blaster bolts dissipate and run out of energy over time, even in space, since they're pure energy burning." Sten added to Tara. "A DOKAW fired through space would go on forever, until it hits something."

"Like a ship." Fless finished, pressing a button. On the holo projector, the _Fenrir_ fired a single cylindrical piece of durasteel at the opposing ship, a _Victory_ Star Destroyer. The Star Destroyer, which had been positioning itself for attack, suddenly shuddered and shook. For a moment, Semreh was reminded of an earthquake, where the ground seizes upwards, like a wave. Except this time, it was the armor plate of the Star Destroyer.

The holographic Fenrir then fired a large volley of its missiles, at the point of impact. The Star Destroyer, already limping from a large hull breach caused by the DOKAW, was suddenly forced to contend with missiles exploding among all the delicate instruments within it. A second later, it began exploding from the inside out.

"This simulation was transferred to us by one of our contacts. He claims that this simulation portrayed a five minute battle."

"Impossible." Templeton exclaimed. "I've never heard of shields being penetrated that quickly!"

"The DOKAW's sheer kinetic force smashes through the particle shield." Fless said. If you look closely, you can see it actually penetrates through several decks of the Star Destroyer-"

"Leaving said destroyer very vulnerable to missile attack." Semreh finished. "You said it has very long range? How long?"

Fless shrugged. "In theory…Infinite. And as it will never slow down in the vacuum of space, its effective range is also extraordinarily high. The only problem would be that it's a little slower than a laser blast."

Sten nodded, then looked at the crowd. "But since a laser blast is already a very high speed, it really doesn't matter. The DOKAW statistically should go a respectable fraction of lightspeed, making it lethal to ships."

There was quiet. Nobody was speaking. Obviously, the Fenrir project could produce a very effective ship killer, one that could allow the Empire victory in nearly every space battle. And in a galaxy this big, space battles are what make empires. If the Empire entered full production of it, then any chance of a quick end to its rein would be ended. Even if ships in opposition to the Empire were to arm themselves the same way, the Empire would gain key momentum, and probably be able to scare fleets into backing down. On the other hand…

"Let's steal it." Semreh said cheerfully.

Every head in the room turned to Semreh. Again, there was silence as every person began imagining the consequences of such a feat.

"That was what I was thinking actually." Fless agreed. "This ship is only a prototype, so if we manage to steal it, we could use it against the Empire to destroy its development lab, effectively setting the program back a couple years. It would take a while for them to redevelop certain aspects of the ship, particularly a slugthrower of that size."

"We think the 'slugthrower' is powered using some type of high powered rail gun." Sten added.

"A rail gun?" Tara asked. She'd never heard of that type of weapon.

"A type of slugthrower." Jolon explained. "But unlike most, which use chemicals to create a combustion reaction and propel a bullet, these use an electromagnetic field."

"The basic concept is simple." Templeton added. "Two parallel rails are charged with electricity. The projectile, made of some type of metal with conductive properties, completes the circuit between these two parallel rails. The fact that one side has a negative charge and the other has a positive charge spins the projectile, while at the same time accelerating it through the barrel, and into space."

"Thank you professor Templeton." Nield said with a sardonic grin. Templeton didn't smile.

"There have been miniaturized versions of rail guns, and ground based cannons of this size have been used before, but they've never managed to mount one on a ship." The captain scratched the back of his neck, looking worried. "A weapon like that could decimate any fleet. The technology behind that is amazing."

"And scary." Semreh said. "We can't let this get into Imperial hands. Can you assemble a team for assault?"

"Uhh, that could be another problem." Fless said, looking at Daichi. The Shield leader got to his feet.

"We believe the Empire is preparing to test its new ship in a week, but they are currently making a few more movements on the board. Very aggressive movements." Daichi brought up a star map of the galaxy, which showed the paths of ships moving along hyperspace lanes.

"With the Separatists pretty much mopped up, the Empire should be moving ships back towards the Core to help secure the more important worlds." Daichi clicked the projector again, and it flashed to a scene of Imperial ships moving across the stars, with a small planet in the background. "However, they're not. Rather, they all seem to be moving to an unknown rally point, one of that is off the star charts."

"For an attack?" Nield said. "Are you sure?"

"No, but it's the only explanation. Rather than spreading out to suppress any dissent, at least three battle groups are moving towards the Mid Rim together."

"And no amount of dissent, short of rebellion, requires three battle groups." Sten added. "Their direction suggests they're moving towards Naboo." He looked at Semreh. "Coincidence?"

"I doubt it." He growled. "They are one of our most supportive allies. Looks like we have a crossroads here. We need to act, warn the Naboo, and be ready to support them in case the Empire moves against them. Meanwhile, we have to prepare a commando operation against the Empire's new weapon."

"Why not just destroy it?" Tara asked. "We could just put a bomb in it, right?"

But Semreh shook his head. "Assuming the research facility is at the same place as the prototype, the most efficient option is to steal the ship, then blow the research base to slag. We get a new ship, and the Empire loses any data or research on their rail gun ship the theory." Semreh turned to Fless. "Get a team together for the raid. I'm going to Naboo."

"To warn the Queen?" Nield asked. "Won't you need an escort?"

"Nah," Semreh said nonchalantly. "I know a guy who'll want to get back to Naboo as soon as possible."

"Bravo three, keep it tight." Sykes said over the comm system of his N-1 starfighter. "Make sure you place that sensor on target. We don't want to leave any blind spots in the perimeter."

"Copy that Bravo One." Bravo Three, a woman named Natasha, responded. Then she added, "Gavin, you don't have to take this so seriously. It's just patrol duty."

"Yeah man, simmer down." Bravo two, a veteran of the Naboo Blockade named Arven Wendik added. "What happened to the Gavin Sykes who would have challenged us to a race in this mess?"

Natasha was a young girl who had joined the Starfighter Corp to fight the Separatists after they had killed her parents during the Battle of Ohma-D'un. Her parents had been spice miners killed and left on the moon in an attempt to kill the moons Gungan population as an experiment for the Separatists new biological weapon. Natasha, now a young woman in her early twenties, had tan skin with black hair tied back into a long braid. She was a beautiful woman, but hurt, and hid her pain by being the heart and soul of the squadron, keeping moral up in the darkest times.

Arven was a pilot during the final assault on the Core Ship, where Gavin had fought as well. He survived the battle, and had stayed with Bravo Squadron. He was about the same age as Gavin, though his face did not have the worry lines. His dark skin was clean shaven, and his blue eyes sharp.

Gavin gritted his teeth as Natasha's ship brushed against the rocky surface of the asteroid. Her N-1, modified to have a small clamp attached to the bottom where the sensors Bren wanted set up were stored, was barely inches from being crushed into dust. He heaved a sigh of relief as she pulled away, the sensor now silently transmitting.

"See." She said cheerfully, throwing her ship into a lazy loop. "No problem. Even one of the newbies could do it."

Gavin submitted to a nervous grin. The Newbies. That was what had changed him, looking after them. Since the Lantern had suddenly turned into barracks for hundreds of refugees and soldiers, Bren had been hard pressed to find enough people to help train those who were fit and able in combat.

Most were with Bolt, and he didn't envy them. By all accounts he was a slave driver; making his recruits run laps through the base, often waking Gavin up at night with their tramping feet. The rest, about a hundred volunteers, were being trained by Gavin and the rest of Bravo Squadron. Due to the lack of starfighters (something Bren kept hinting would not be a problem for much longer) the Newbies, as Bravos had come to call them, were taking turns practicing in the sleek N-1s, zipping through the asteroid field. And considering the fact that the odds of navigating an asteroid field are higher than most Corellians can count, it was very good practice indeed.

Still, for delicate matters like dropping a small delicate piece of electronics on what was effectively a moving ship killer…Well, Gavin knew that only veteran pilots could pull it off. Splitting into their respective wings of three ships, Bravo Squadron had dispersed, each planting their ship's respective sensors on asteroids. The each of the sensors was strategically placed near the edges of the Drup asteroid field, letting them have a clear sweep of the surrounding system while being hidden by the asteroids disrupting ships sensors.

In order to ensure their own sensors were not blinded, Bren had insisted on each of them carrying a long range visual scanning device that allowed the commander back at the Lantern to observe the entire system. In other words, they had cameras that transmitted images back to the lantern, where security watched the perimeter on monitors.

"Bravo One, this is Bravo Four, over."

Gavin keyed his com system. "Copy that Bravo Four. How are things going on your end Hollis?"

Lutin Hollis, a man who had fought with Gavin during the Naboo resistance, was leader of his own wing within Bravo Squadron. He was a good pilot, one who had stayed at Gavin's side since the day he'd begun shooting vulture droids off his back. He had also thought during the Clone Wars.

His wingmen were Des Fox and Rad Cloud a pair of twins who grew up in wartime Theed, carrying messages to resistance cells. The pair were inseparable and skilled pilots.

"We're good over here." Hollis answered. "Sensors are in place, as are camera links and feeds. If anything bigger than a starfighter comes round here, we'll know it."

"Copy that. We'll see you back at base. Bravo One out." Gavin cut his comlink, turning his fighter in an upward spiral into an area less filled with deadly rocks. "All right, Natasha, Arven, lets form up and head home."

"Woahoo!" Natasha said, already letting her ship spin in a barrel roll. "Drinks are on Arven!"

"What are you talking about?" Arven murmured irritably. "What drinks? The whole base is dry!"

"Fine, let's go find drinks then." Natasha insisted excitedly. "What kinda of base doesn't have a place to drink?"

"One run by an idealistic crusader like Bren." Gavin answered simply. "He doesn't want hundreds of men drinking in such a confined space."

"Say," Arven asked. "Does he have a suggestion box?"

"Why, thinking of suggesting a bar?" Gavin murmured in concentration, pulling his starfighter to the side of an asteroid. "Yeah, he has three, all of them in the men's freshers. They're the big white bowls."

"No need to get irritated." Arven shot back a little quietly.

Gavin's starfighter hit the deck of the hanger with a small thud, and Gavin quickly opened his cockpit, pulling himself out. He looked back at his droid, an astromech named R2-C4, or Seefor. The droid, with his yellow lining and domed head, beeped something that sounded like a bored sigh.

"I know buddy, but we're stuck here for a while. Might as well enjoy the qui-"

Gavin was interrupted by a series of frenzied squeals and metallic beeps from his metal companion. The droid jerked a moment, then activated the N-1's eject system, launching himself up and onto the hanger floor. Gavin pulled his leather helmet off his head before pushing himself out of the ship and onto the metal floor after his droid.

"What do you mean you're picking up some strange transmissions? From command?"

The droid beeped in confirmation, then jerked a little bit before activating its holoprojector. A tiny Bren shot out, looking up at Gavin. "Get your Squadron in gear commander. We have an emergency escort mission for you."

"From who?" Gavin said, already seeing Bravo Squadron coming to see the disturbance.

"Semreh." Bren answered. "We got an emergency on Naboo."

There was a collective gasp from the hanger as Bravo squadron heard the news. He saw Natasha cover her mouth in horror and turn into the arms of Arven. Des and Rad exchanged worried glances, and looked back.

The other two wings of the squadron, Bravos Seven through Twelve, were sprinting over now, drawn by the obvious tension. The wing leaders for the two, dark eyed Stan Crynyd and young Elliot Knel, whose sandy blond hair was constantly falling in front of her youthful face. Those two and their wings were the youngest and had never served in any war.

"What's up?" Stan murmured to Arven.

"Trouble back home." Arven whispered back. "Command's sending us to escort somebody there."

"A Jedi to be exact." Bren added. "Semreh Kassen. He is the survivor of Order 66 who originally brought us together against the Empire, along with Miss Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy."

"Who would name their kid that?" Elliot murmured to Stan with a grin, but received an elbow to her ribs from Des.

"Shhh." He said, pointing at Bren.

"Anyways," The commander continued. "Semreh thinks the Empire may be deploying ships to Naboo. He's going there to personally survey the situation and warn the Queen."

"And we're going with." Gavin said. It was very clearly not a question.

Bren nodded. "Do you want me to actually give you the orders, or-" He stopped as Gavin already turned around, giving orders for Bravo Squadron to move out and set course for home.

Gavin himself was already running to his ship, and throwing himself into the cockpit. Behind him, Seefor was settling into his small socket and calculating the hyperspace route to Naboo.

"We ready Seefor?" He said into his com. An affirmative beeped followed. "Bravo Squadron, are y'all formed up?"

"Yes sir." A chorus of confirmations sounded.

"All ships ready for takeoff." Elliot added.

The sleek yellow ships rose slowly around him heading for the hanger energy barrier. They slipped through the barrier, entering the empty abyss of space in a triangular formation, ready for the jump.

"All right Bravos." Gavin said, his finger hovering over the hyperspace lever. "For the Queen."

"For the Queen." His squadron said back, before disappearing in a burst of light.


	51. Chapter 51 Mobilizing

**_A pretty short chapter. Now, just for the sake of story, and because I can't seem to figure out how long it takes to get from one place to another in hyperspace, we're gonna assume that all the characters get where they want to relatively quickly._**

Semreh was getting dressed into something less conspicuous than Jedi robes when the door to his room flung open. He'd left Jolon behind in the meeting room, having left early to get ready for his flight to Naboo and also to avoid any lectures on not being a hero. Unfortunately, Jolon was a teacher at heart, and determined to lecture.

"You are the dumbest padawan I've ever met!" He roared as soon as he entered the room. "Do you honestly think that your presence there will make a difference? Naboo is going to fall no matter what you do."

Semreh jerked his shoulders, helping to settle a brown hooded jacket over his tunic. "The Naboo need to be warned, and we can't risk sending a message over the holonet. Unlike most of our Outer Rim contacts, the Naboo's communications will be carefully watched. This needs to be done in person."

He finished dressing, lacing up a pair ronto hide boots over his trousers. He turned, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked like an ordinary smuggler.

"The Naboo only have a small security force." Jolon warned, raising a finger. "At most, you'll delay the Empire."

"The Naboo have been preparing this for months." Semreh shot back, buckling a belt around his waist with the blaster Jusik had given him thrust into a holster. He hefted an extra power pack for the blaster, pondering whether he'd need it.

"Anyways," he added, setting the pack back onto the ground. "I won't be there for long. We don't actually know whether the Empire will attack Naboo. It could be a different system or planet."

"Naboo's the only thing of interest there and you know it." Jolon said angrily. "If you want to go, fine, but don't expect me to go with you." He crossed his arms and glared beneath his white eyebrows. "I haven't survived this long by being stupid."

"Ah, come on Jolon." Semreh pleaded mockingly. "Come with me. A hopeless crusade sounds just your cup of tap."

"You're going to get yourself killed." Jolon continued.

"Please." Semreh rolled his eyes, picking up his lightsaber and thrusting it into his belt. "You know what a careful guy I am."

* * *

Semreh was ready. He stood in the hanger of the Chaser base, talking with Nield and Daichi before he left. Daichi was insisting he take Fless and Sten with him, but Semreh knew it would take a larger transport, something that was not desirable for this mission. But both Daichi and Nield were insistent.

"If you don't take them." Nield warned. "I order every ship and gun in this place to shoot you down." He paused, letting his words take effect. "How's that sound?"

Semreh couldn't help but grin. "I suppose I can't say no to that." He looked at the two Guardian Chasers, who were already loading the ship with crates of weapons and explosives. The ship, a small freighter that looked like it had just come off the assembly line, was hovering, ready to fly as soon as everyone had boarded.

"I need intelligence on the situation there." Daichi explained, waving a hand at the ship. "Make sure they get back here all right."

Semreh nodded. "Fine but I have a job for you then. Call Bren. Have him contact someone named Scout. Tell him to tell her what's going on, and that we'll need her and her allies as soon as possible. Sonya has gotten most of the Commonality to at least act supportive. All we need are those damn birds."

"Fine." He looked at Semreh, a look of worry flashing across his face, but then just laughed. "After all, if this is our stand against the Empire, I want it to be good."

Semreh grinned back, then walked up the ramp of the ship. He hurried to the cockpit, where Sten and Fless, still dressed in their professional suits, were making preflight preparations. The ships engine buzzed, and it rose through the underground hangers top.

"This should be fun." Fless murmured with a frown as the ship made the jump to hyperspace.

* * *

The man opened his eyes. He looked up, and there were the yellow eyes. Then, the man found a strange thing. He found he liked those eyes.

"Do you know who you are?" The eyes asked.

"I am the Emperor's hand, formerly a Makutai master." The man said quietly.

"What is your mission?"

The man paused for a moment, then whispered. "To serve the Emperor in any way he commands."

"Now, who is causing you this pain?"

The former Makutai turned his and looked dully over at the Inquisitor standing behind the consol for the machine he was strapped into. Like all of his kind, the Inquisitor was a Force sensitive trained to serve Palpatine. No doubt he held a lightsaber beneath his dark maroon robes. The man was calm, expressionless.

"Him."

"Very good." The eyes said, flicking across the room to where the Inquisitor stood. There was a click, and the Inquisitor stepped back, eyes widening in shock.

"My lord." He said, bracing himself. "What are you doing?"

There was another click, and the restraints holding the man opened, letting him sit up. He rubbed his wrists, trying to induce feeling into them. There was a hiss and the man turned and saw the Inquisitor had activated his lightsaber.

"My Emperor, please!" He yelled, eyes now terrified.

The man turned, throwing himself out of the slab of stone that bad been his home for two months.

"Good, good." The yellow eyes purred. "Kill him."

The man stood for a moment, unmoving, face blank beneath his mask. Then, his body seemed to flicker, disappearing for a mere second, and reappearing in a crouched position, looking up at the Inquisitor. He had just enough time to look down in horror before the former Makutai smashed his fist upward, sending the Inquisitors jaw backwards, breaking it. The Inquisitor flailed backwards for a moment, but the man was already on him. He grabbed the tip of the man's now detached jaw and pushed back stabbing the bone up and into the man's brain, killing him instantly.

Some remaining pulse of electricity, the last orders of a dying man, told the Inquisitor to let his sword arm fall onto his assailant, but the Makutai stood up, catching the now limp arm in his fist. He broke the arm with a simple flick of the wrist, and caught the lightsaber before it hit the ground. He then turned, eyeing the Emperor coolly.

He then fell to his knees, clutching his head, as the Emperor simply raised one crooked finger, and the Force surged again, and overwhelming pain broke over the man.

"That suit and mask you wear are more than something to help you cover your scars." The Emperor said, stepping from the shadows, the towering Darth Vader standing beside him. "It is connected to your nervous system. Using the Force, I can sense you everywhere you go, bring you to your knees whenever I want. I can even make you go insane."

The pain stopped, and the man stood, waiting like a well trained akk dog.

"You will follow my orders," The Emperor continued, "or I will make you pay for eternity."

The man said nothing, but through the Force, he nodded.

"What are your orders, my lord?"

The Emperor waved Vader forward now and the towering monster stepped into the light. The man, looking up at him, was impressed.

"Lord Vader has found interesting intelligence from the planet Naboo." The Emperor explained in his raspy voice. "The Queen, Apailana, has been harboring fugitives of the Empire. She and her security force have violated decrees set forth by the Empire, ordering all Jedi be destroyed or turned into Imperial forces." The Emperor paused, turning to Lord Vader.

"I have dispatched fleets to deal with the dissidents." Vader rumbled from behind his mask. "But if the Queen escapes, it could mean decades of dangerous rebellion. This is unacceptable."

"What are your orders?" The Makutai said, bowing his head and dropping to one knee.

"You are to go to Naboo, join this assault as one of the stormtroopers of the 501st, then assassinate the Queen during the chaos." The Emperor raised a hand to his face, stroking his chin. "After that, Lord Vader will contact you, and inform you of your next mission."

"It will be done my Lord."

"Be wary." The Emperor said, "The Jedi are not to be underestimated. If they are there, ensure that none escape."

"Finally," The Emperor continued, now closely observing him. "You need a name. Something appropriate…For your designation over com signals."

"Keep it simple." Lord Vader said. "Seth."

"Seth." The Emperor said, letting the name roll off his tongue. "Very well. Take Seth to the fleet. Have him outfitted. When you find the Queen…Kill her."

**_Ohh, a new assassin thrown into the mix. How will that work out? R and R._**


	52. Chapter 52 The Queen's Dilemma

Semreh's freighter shuddered as it decelerated out of hyperspace. Before them, the pearl shaped world of Naboo spun slowly in front of them, its blue-green surface only occasionally marred by white clouds. So far, no Imperial ships were in orbit. Semreh heaved an audible sigh of relief. They weren't too late.

"We're being hailed." Fless announced from the copilots seat. "It's Naboo security. They want us to identify ourselves. What should I tell them?"

In the viewport, a trio of the yellow N-1 starfighters were approaching, their laser cannons trained on their freighter. Semreh crossed his arms, leaning against the ships bulwark.

"The truth." Semreh answered with a grin. "Tell them this is a Jedi ship and we are here for an audience with the Queen."

Fless and Sten exchanged glances, then Fless keyed his non-audio communications, typing in his response. He sent it, then waited a moment before the N-1's returned their response.

"They say," He read off the monitor, "Suck plasma."

A second later, their view port flashed with green laser fire, rocking the ship. Fless cursed and Sten threw their ship into a barrel roll, pulling it out of their crosshairs. Semreh reached out with his arms bracing himself on the ships walls.

"Taking fire." Sten said calmly, wrestling with the controls. "Shields are covering, but will probably fail soon."

"See, this is why I hate civilian ships." Fless yelled over the noise. "Are you sure the Queen is on our side?"

The ship jerked, throwing Semreh straight up, banging his head on the ceiling. "I spoke to her myself." He yelled back as he rubbed his head. "She promised her support for the Jedi. She even ordered her men to help them!"

Another blast rocked the ship, and Sten reported their shields were almost gone and threw the ship into an upward spiral, trying to arch over the N-1's and towards Naboo. The ships split out of formation, following the lumbering freighter with their cannons, rising on either side of the freighter.

"Really!?" Fless growled, stumbling back towards their rear turret. "Cuz' I'm not feeling the love."

"Semreh stopped him before he could get into the bubble turret. "We can't just blast Naboo pilots out of the sky. We're supposed to be allies!"

"Tell that to them." Fless said, throwing himself into the gunners sat.

"This is not my fault." Semreh protested, running up to take Fless's spot in the copilot's seat. He worked the instruments, trying to establish communications with the nimble starfighters, but failing. To his right, Sten was trying to make the freighter pull off tricks it never had before, but the starfighters bolts still burned through the freighter's shields.

Then, Semreh noticed something on the radar screen. "Twelve contacts jumping it." He yelled back to Fless. "More N-1's."

"Great!" Fless murmured, already bringing his turret to bear on them. "More allies?"

Gavin Sykes brought his ship into a roll, dodging a flash of laser fire from a freighter a small distance from his Squadron. "Evasive maneuvers Bravos." He warned, as the rest exited hyperspace. "We've got contacts. Three friendly, one hostile."

"Copy that Bravo Leader." Arven confirmed.

"Wings Four and Three, get on their verticals and cover us." Gavin ordered. "Wing two, circle around and cover us while we take out that turret."

"Copy that Bravo Leader." Cyrnyd said. "I'm already on my way up."

"On your six Bravo Seven." Elliot reported. "Looks like those three guys are tearing it apart though."

Gavin saw that, and held his fire. The freighter was already falling apart. There was no need to continue. Keying his com unit, he sent a message to the three N-1's telling them to hold their fire. He waited for a moment. No response.

Then, his cockpit exploded in lights as his warning systems flashed. "Target lock." He said, throwing his ship into a spin as a missile streaked past his ship. "Bravos, we've got rouge N-1's."

"I see them Bravo Leader." Hollis said. "Damn fools are shooting up the freighter. Locking on."

Gavin risked a glimpsed over to where Hollis and his wing were pursuing two of the fighters, chasing them off with their flashing cannons. The one that had locked onto him was already halfway to Naboo, too far to pursue.

"Attention unidentified freighter, what is your situation?"

"Quiet back there!" Sten yelled from the front. "I'm picking something up on the com signal."

Semreh, who was helping to drag a coughing and smoking Fless out of the rear turret, almost dropped him as Sten pulled the ship into a sharp dive.

"Careful up there!" Semreh shouted into the main cabin.

"What's he doing?" A disoriented Fless murmured.

"Trying to get a signal." Semreh answered. He began checking Fless for injuries. The turret was down, but it had not vented atmosphere or they'd already be dead. "You don't feel injured anywhere, and there's no blood. You feeling any-"

At that moment, the ship took another sharp turn and a crate, having come loose earlier in their dogfight, slid across the deck right towards Semreh and Fless. Semreh tried to push Fless out of the way, but just as the Chaser was clear, the heavy crate hit him, pinning him to the metal hull of the ship. As it hit him, he heard a small 'omph' followed by a groan.

Fless, having also heard the noise, got to his feet and drew a blaster from beneath his singed coat, training it on the crates top with one hand while the other began unlatching it. With a flourish, he ripped the top off and peered inside.

"What are you doing here!?" he exclaimed in surprise.

"Who is it?" Semreh asked, his voice muffled from the crate.

"It's me." A sharp voice answered from the inside of the crate.

"That's nice." Semreh snorted. "Who's me?"

"It's the girl." Fless answered, still rubbing his head.

"A girl?" Sten, who had just stepped into the room asked. He was holding a portable com unit for speaking to ships. "Where's Semreh?"

"Over here." Semreh shouted.

"In the crate?"

"No, the girls in the crate." Fless.

"So where's Semreh?" Sten asked, no thoroughly confused. "And what girl are you talking about?"

"Tara." Fless answered irritably.

"Tara's in the crate!" Semreh roared. "What are you doing here!?"

"Semreh where are you?" Sten asked in an exasperated voice.

"Sorry, Semreh, but I wasn't going to spend my time hanging out with Jolon the whole time!?"

"I'm behind the crate Sten, now what is it?"

Fless helped Tara out of the crate, and together, they pushed the crate off him. Tara, dressed in her usual black short shorts and t-shirt, helped pull Semreh up with a gloved hand.

"You didn't think I'd be left out of this?" She grinned. "The thing about ships is, they never expect the stowaways to be hiding in the thermal detonators."

"Evidently." Semreh murmured wryly. "Sten, what is it?"

Sten held out the com unit, putting it in Semreh's hands. "A Captain Gavin Sykes, sir."

Gavin's voice echoed slightly as he laughed in his cockpit. It's true, there wasn't a lot of room for it, but across the comlinks of the Squadron, the Bravos were laughing.

"Oh, I already like this kid." Natasha said with a grin. "Sounds like one dysfunctional family."

Finally, Bravo Squadron bumped onto the landing pad of Theed, the beaten and barely recognizable freighter following suit. As soon as it hit the tarmac, Semreh and his two chaser friends tumbled out. Well, Semreh and Fless tumbled out. Sten, with his massive body and powerful movements, seemed above tumbling.

The Bravos quickly leapt out of their starfighters, several letting their hands fall to the hilts of blaster pistols. They gathered round Gavin, who rushed forward to help Fless to his feet.

"I'm all right." Fless insisted, waving him away. "Just got a little smoked is all."

"Evidently." Elliot murmured, looking at Semreh intently. "Are you the Jedi we've heard so much about? You don't look like one."

Semreh pretended to be hurt by the accusation. "What, you don't see my calm serene attitude, that quiet lethality."

"No." Natasha said flatly.

Semreh gave a theatrical sight and opened his jacket, letting his lightsaber peek out from the inside.

"Well, I suppose that's the point, being a Jedi being a death sentence after all." He zipped his jacket up so both the blaster and his lightsaber were hidden again. "Anyways, we need to speak with the Queen, and quickly."

"The Empire's on the move?" Gavin asked, pulling his helmet of his matted hair and throwing it into the starfighter. Semreh nodded.

"Why not just call her up?" Elliot asked.

"Because there's too much of a chance that the transmission would be intercepted." Fless answered for Semreh. "The fact is that we can't leave any signs that could lead back to Melida/Daan. This needs to be in, and out before the Imperial fleet arrives."

"Right." Crynyd said, looking over Semreh's shoulder to the entrance to the landing platform. A group of RSF officers had arrived, walking in formation, hands on their pistols. "And here comes the welcoming committee."

"I radioed ahead." Gavin explained as their group moved to meet the group of guards."The Queen has assured us safe conduct to the palace. I guess this is her escort."

The guards were closer now and, with a look of surprise, Gavin stepped forward, embracing the leading guard.

"Ellberger!" He said, pulling away to look at her. "You're still alive I see."

Ellberger, an old woman in a high ranking uniform, smiled at him. "The Queen didn't say where you and the rest of Bravo Squadron had gone. When we get the time, you and the rest of your pilots will have to tell me your stories."

"Yes." Gavin laughed, and a few of the pilots in Bravo Squadron looked at her in a cross of surprise and awe. "But first, we need to meet the Queen."

The woman's face turned serious and she nodded. "Things have changed while you were gone Gavin. We've got speeders ready to take you to the place, but keep alert."

"What's wrong?" Arven asked, but Ellberger shook her head and shhhed him.

"I'll explain on the way, but quickly." She turned leading the way to the street, where a trio of Gian heavy assault speeders were waiting, alongside a pair of Flash speeders. A rather heavily armed guard for peaceful Naboo.

Semreh got into the passenger seat of the leading Flash speeder, sitting next to Gavin as he piloted the speeder through the city. The convoy didn't waste any time starting their trip. Being security vessels, the street opened up before them, letting the speeders through. Still, despite the speed of their travel, Semreh noticed that the streets were much more heavily patrolled than the last time he'd been there, with RSF officers no longer just using blaster pistols, but rifles as well. They even passed a few checkpoints where RSF troopers had set up turrets and had proton torpedo tubes and launchers close at hand.

The city itself was beautiful, all carved stone and wood. There were people about, going about their daily business of commerce and labor. The tall sweeping architecture of the city seemed to enclose everything. As they came to the palace courtyard, Semreh enjoyed the sight of the water gurgling around the small island like entrance. They crossed a set of bridges to work their way towards the palace.

Finally, they came to the palace plaza, an enormous courtyard. It was typical Naboo beauty, with gardens lying along the road, and the streets lined with intricately carved balconies. As they drove into it, they passed under a tall triumphal arch that was ringed with sensors. In a way, the combination of beauty and warlike security reminded Semreh of the wartime Jedi Temple.

The speeders stopped before a tall stairway, and Semreh, Chasers, guards, and pilots all piled out. They trudged up the steps, quickly making their way through the intricate hallways of the place to the Queen's reception room. There, she waited with members of her Royal Advisory Council. They seemed to be whispering hurriedly with their Queen, and many had worried looks on their faces. When they saw the group coming towards them, they hung back while Queen Apailana stepped forward to great them.

"Brave pilots." She said, nodding as Gavin and the rest of Bravo Squadrons gave deep bows. "You have done well I hear. Please, accept my gratitude.

"My lady." Gavin said, "I know I speak for the whole squadron when I say it was an honor."

The Queen nodded solemnly, then moved down the line. "Commander Ellberger, take your men and monitor our forces at the command center." The Queen ordered.

"Yes milady." The old woman said, turning to leave. "Should I put all flights on alert?"

Apailana paused, then nodded. "Yes, I fear Semreh has brought us ill news." She now turned to Semreh, Tara, and the Chasers.

"Ma'am." Fless said, stepping forward with an eloquent bow. "My partner and I are agents of President Nield of Melida/Daan. He sends his compliments and his allegiance."

"Very well." She said, portraying very little emotion. "I would speak to you later, when we have a more private place, on the details of this alliance."

"As you wish." Sten murmured, gently pulling Fless back by his shoulder.

"Ah, and you Semreh." The Queen said, now turning to him. "It seems quite some time since you walked these halls."

"Too long." Semreh stepped back, letting Tara step forward. "This is a friend of mine, Tara. She wished to come along."

Tara, for once showing a modicum of class and formality, stepped forward and bowed. The Queen raised an eyebrow for a moment. Her own intricate red dress, the same worn by Queen Amidala all those years ago, was in stark contrast to the clothes Tara had on. She wore black shorts that ended above the knee, and a black t-shirt covered with intricate white markings and a small black jacket over that.

"You look young to be gallivanting across the galaxy with a Jedi." Apailana murmured.

Tara's façade of calm formality slipped for a moment. "Aren't you a little young to be ruling a plane-" She stopped short, her voice muffled by a small grip in the Force from Semreh.

"You'll have to excuse my friend." Semreh said, throwing a friendly arm over Tara's shoulder. "She doesn't know how to talk to the _ruler of a planet_." He emphasized those last words, hoping to get the point across to Tara. Her eyes flashed at him angrily, then Semreh felt the tiniest nudge through the Force, warning him to let her go. Semreh obliged and Tara turned back to the Queen.

"Of course your majesty." She said in mock pleasantness. "My apologies."

Semreh looked at the Queen, nervous about her reaction, then saw that she was smiling widely and beaming at Tara. "Oh, I like her." The Queen laughed.

Tara looked taken aback, but then joined, chuckling slightly. Semreh heaved a sigh of relief, then followed the whole crowd deeper into the palace.

"Over the past couple months, we have been quietly resisting the Republic." The Queen said to her assembled allies. "A short time ago, there was an incident with the Imperial garrison stationed here."

"Incident?" Semreh had heard nothing from the Chasers about that, and they were the intelligence agency. He looked over to Fless, who shrugged.

"It was covered up by the Imperials." Apailana explained, "Because the Imperials in question were breaking several laws, storing explosives in the Theed hanger." Apailana paused, adjusting her position in the chair behind her desk. "We were approached by a Ferus Olin, a former Jedi."

"I remember him." Semreh's eyes looked up, as though trying to remember something. "He left the Order I thought, before the Clone Wars even started."

"I don't claim to know the intricacies of the Jedi Order." Apailiana confessed. "But he arrived here, rather insistent that engage the Imperial garrison. With a force of local Gungans and RSF officers, we attacked the troops stationed there, blowing up the explosives stored in the hanger. The Empire, wanting to avoid embarrassment and because the local troops were breaking Imperial law, overlooked the incident."

"Not for long though." Semreh murmured. "The Imperial fleet enroute here could be coming because of that."

Apailana shook her head, looking anxious. "Actually, I'm sure the Empire has a myriad of other reasons for invading, if what you say is true."

Fless cleared his throat loudly, entering the conversation. "My contacts saw the fleets himself. They're all concentrating at a rally point somewhere near here. Unfortunately, we don't know where. After all," He said with a shrug, "Space is a big place to hide."

"Of course." The Queen nodded absentmindedly. "Now, I have something to discuss with Semreh…Alone please." She nodded at the guards and her advisors, all of whom left in an indignant hurry. Bravo Squadron left as well, but Sten, Fless, and Tara looked suspicious. However, Semreh fixed them with a meaningful stare, and they left begrudgingly.

The Queen looked at Semreh, staring at him with what could only be called a politicians glare; calm, collected, and utterly neutral. Semreh felt uncomfortable under it, and squirmed a little, trying to return her piercing gaze. Finally, she spoke.

"Semreh, I fear I may have brought all this down upon us."

"What do you mean?" He asked, calmly crossing his legs.

"After Ferus came to us, I felt…I felt it was time to take a more active stance against the Empire." She sighed. "Perhaps I was naive. Not all people are against the Empire. Captain Panaka himself is a strong supporter for Palpatine, however loyal to Naboo he may be."

Semreh looked thoughtful. "Has he been subverting your government?"

"Not directly, no." Apailana explained. "But the actions of those pilots who attacked you suggest that there are those who would defy my orders to not fire on Jedi. Probably under Panaka's orders."

"Not that he doesn't have the best interests of Naboo in mind." She continued. "But we have different views on what exactly is best. Which brings us to the big problem…"

The Apailana gracefully got to her feet, and walked to a nearby portrait of one of the past kings of Naboo. It was a full sized portrait, and the king, dressed in robes and ornamental clothes that put most tycoons to shame, looked as though he was standing right there.

She carefully removed it, sliding it to the side. Behind it was a tall door carved from some type of heavy black wood. Apailana raised a finger, signaling for Semreh to wait, then knocked on the door three times. There was a pause, then a returning knock. Apailana opened the door with a loud creak, and indicated for Semreh to enter.

Not one to walk down dark tunnels unarmed, Semreh unclipped his lighsaber and ignited it, stepping into the tunnel. The floor and walls were rough stone, not the smooth works that made up most of Theed. The blue light illuminated the way, leading Semreh forward until he came to another door, this one made of durasteel. He looked back at Apailana, who nodded. With a sigh, Semreh hesitantly knocked.

There were muffled voices coming from the other end, then the door was flung open and Semreh was suddenly surprised to be facing the business end of a Blastech Heavy Lasersplicer repeater.

"So, what now?" Sonya asked from her position at the comlink station. Scout was quiet. She and Yasuo had only just returned to the village when Sonya had found them and insisted they come to meet her at the _Arrow_. There, she had showed them a holomessage sent by Bren, warning them of the happenings on Naboo.

"This message was sent a little less than a week ago." Sonya continued, "Bren sounded worried, and its only thanks to some luck that you arrived soon after." She leaned back in her chair, looking at Scout. "So, what do you want to do?"

Scout was quiet. On the one hand, she could go barging off to Naboo to meet Semreh. That was probably the reason he'd sent her the message. After all, she was the one who'd begun their crazy crusade. However, if the Kilmaulsi didn't join the fight, then who knew what would happen. It was possible that the rest of the Commonality who were sitting on the fence would also refuse to join.

"You should go." Yasuo finally said, interrupting Scout's thoughts. "I'll stay here and gather the Kilmaulsi then join you with the rest of your allies on Melida/Daan."

"Will they really listen to you?" Sonya asked suspiciously, but Yasuo only shrugged.

"If they don't, then it is as the Force wills." He answered simply. "But if you really wish to make it to Naboo, you need to leave now."

Scout paused for only a second, then nodded. "All right!" She said, turning to Sonya. "Get the Arrow moving. We're going to Naboo."

Right." Sonya murmured sarcastically, voice fading as she headed to the cockpit. "That way we can at least all die someplace significant rather than this backwater hole in the universe."

"I'll stay here and rally the Kilmaulsi." Yasuo yelled over the whirring engines. He was already backing down the ramp. "Tell the Commonality to send transports to pick us up."

"Will do!" Scout yelled back. "And master…Thank you."

Yasuo grinned beneath his mask, and stepped back, letting the _Arrow_ rise from the ground, and burn thrusters towards the night sky.

Seth stood on the hanger deck of the Star Destroyer _Exactor_, anonymous among the legions of stormtroopers assembled in its large parade ground. The stormtroopers were largely clones, but Seth noted that many were increasingly found from planets like Cardia, and that the classic Fett clones were appearing less numerous. It was a mixed bag most of the time. However, the troopers leading the attack, those of the 501st legion, were pure Jango clones. All, except him.

Seth suspected, from the way they cheated glimpses at him and kept their distance that they knew he was different. Beneath his helmet, he wore his mask. After all, the thing was now connected to the nerve endings across most of his face. Removing it was impossible. Still, he's squeezed his mask and the rest of his suit into the new armor of a stormtrooper, and a short time later, was already blending into the crowd.

Vader had told him to move down with the rest f the first wave, hiding in the crowd of the 501st. The plan, in theory, was for him to enter ahead of the troopers, making sure he got to the Queen before the troopers did. After all, the troopers would all have to focus on the RSF troopers and guards. It was his job to kill the Queen and any Jedi protecting her.

He sat alone on a crate, fingering the E-11 blaster at his side. If he was going to blend with the stormtroopers, he'd have to fight like them. Still, Seth had no plans to remain a lonely foot soldier for the rest of his life. Nor was he planning to stay the Emperors lackey, running errands for a decrepit man and his monster. No, he had a plan.

Yes, it was true that the Emperor and his minions had driven him insane. He was, quite simply, mad. But he remembered his training, and he remembered what he'd learned of the Sith. There could only be two, and that meant that Seth had limited uses, which meant he had limited time before the Emperor destroyed him. Still, there was a chance.

The suit Seth wore was the Emperors tie to him. Through some arcane use of the dark side, the suit was embedded within his own skin, like painful needles wiggling around. Even now, he could feel the Emperors presence, like a hand guiding him from his shoulder. If he was ever going to be free of the Emperor, he'd have to remove the suit, something that was far beyond his own skill in the Force.

What he needed was someone skilled in the Force, but also someone he could manipulate to remove the suit. It was a predicament. Most of the Force sensitives in the galaxy were either dead, untrained, or under Palpatine's control. Still, he would find someone. After all, he had no choice.

"All troopers, to your stations. All troopers to your stations." The loudspeaker blared over the entire ship. Troopers who had been doing nothing simply grabbed their stuff and leapt to their feet and ran to their positions, some mounting gunships, others jumping into fighters, and others…well, just keeping busy.

Seth himself got to his feet, running for the nearest LAAT and strapping in. The clones around him looked at him funnily, like a person they recognized, but didn't know. Seth supposed he, not being used to the armor, and not even having the same genetic structure as the 501st clones, made him obviously different. Seth ignored them, looking out of the gunship as it rose. At one point, atop one of the balconies over the hanger, he glimpsed Vader, watching the ships take off. Then his gunship turned, and he was gone.

Vader stormed through the halls of the _Exactor_, his cape billowing around his metallic ankles. He was disturbed. More disturbed than he'd been for several months. His master's new assassin, a fully trained warrior, a perfect slave, and a cold killer.

It worried Vader. True, he could have killed the man if he wanted to, but Seth was powerful. What if he became stronger, strong enough to usurp his place at his master's side? He could create trouble. Finally, he came to the communications chamber of his master. The black clad Sith knelt on a pedestal before the holoprojector. The lights on the pedestal lit up, and the image of his master rose before him.

"Lord Vader." The image rasped. "What disturbs you my son? I can sense your worry across the galaxy."

"Nothing my lord…Simply, this new assassin." Vader looked up at the huge face of the most powerful being in the galaxy. "What is the point? We have many agents who could have satisfied the role in this battle."

"True," Palpatine nodded. "But none who need to be tested like him. You can't kill every Jedi in the galaxy yourself."

Vader tightened his grip on the hilt of his lightsaber, making it creak under the pressure. "Perhaps you underestimate my power."

Palpatine paused, eyeing Vader carefully. "Perhaps you should pick your words more carefully. I recall you saying that one time before."

Vader's grip slackened in shock. How had the Emperor known that?

"Anyways," Palpatine continued. "Seth will serve our purposes for now. We need someone to counter Tarkin's own agents. I fear the man may have forgotten his place…"

Vader was about to protest, but fell silent. Palpatine's political maneuverings were as obscure to Vader now as when he was little. Still, if Tarkin was attempting to subvert the Emperor, he'd need something more powerful than a fleet of starships, even more powerful than Vader and Palpatine combined.

"He will kill those agents?" Vader rumbled. "And remove Tarkin?"

"No." The Emperor said sharply. "There is no need to remove such a competent officer if he can be humbled. Seth will be used against his agents, and capture whatever it is he is chasing."

Vader nodded. "Very well my lord."

Palpatine stopped again, peering down at Vader from the holos position above him. "I sense your unease, and you need not fear lord Vader. If I wanted a mindless drone for an apprentice, I could easily take one."

"My lor-"

"You are my apprentice." Palpatine boomed. "And you will serve me until I die, at your hand of course."

Vader bowed his head again. He knew Palpatine spoke the truth, and that nothing could be done. He would serve the Emperor's interests till he died, and that was now the one constant in his life. The thought might have made him ill, had he still been human.


	53. Chapter 53 Battle of Naboo

**_All right. Now, if I kinda divided my story into three seperate arcs in my head. The next couple chapters would be the end of the first arc, and the beginning of the next. So, here it is, the Fall of Naboo._**

Semreh stood stock still, his blade humming besides him. For a moment, he considered lashing out with it, scything through the heavy repeater and the shadow holding it. Then, he stopped. There was something, a signature in the Force he had not noted till now. A familiar feeling no less.

"Habler?" Semreh murmured, not lowering his lightsaber. The figure took a step back, as though he'd been shot, then seemed to glance over Semreh's shoulder at Apailana.

"Have you taken to showing where we are?" A familiar voice said to the Queen. "You know better than that?"

"He is a friend. One of you."

Semreh stepped forward, brushing Halber's weapon aside with the side of his hand. His eyes had adjusted now and it was definitely him. He looked much thinner, as if his muscular frame had shrunk, than the last time Semreh had seen him, and had grown a wild beard to match his long hair, but it was definitely him. For a moment, he looked confused, then he lowered his repeater, and looked Semreh over.

"It is you Semreh." He murmured, reaching to his right. There was a click, and the room was flooded with light. Semreh shielded his eyes for a moment, then blinked. Gradually, the room came into focus.

* * *

The room itself was plain stone. Literally, nothing more than a cot and a few chairs to sit on. There was a vent in the corner, but that was the only thing that marred the surface of the almost air tight room. Inside, there were maybe a dozen people of various species, sexes, and condition. He knew several of them, though most only through their reputations.

Elena was there, sitting behind Halber, looking as though she'd just woken up. She was wearing a set of rumpled robes that looked like they'd been worn for days, but otherwise looked okay. Her eyes were wide in shock for a moment, but then her face cooled to a mask of calm happiness.

Behind her was Ulu Ulix, a padawan who Semreh had known from his days as a youngling. He looked okay, except two of his three eyes were wounded; one of them swelled shut and purple, while the other was covered with a ragged cloth. There was also a long blaster burn scar beneath his horns along his scalp.

Ulu Ulix took a step forward to greet Semreh, but stopped when his master put a stern claw on his shoulder. His master, a Bothan named Glynn-Beti, was known for her severe attitude and strict discipline. Still, even she smiled slightly. Semreh saw that on several places across her body, her fur was singed and burned, and she was walking with a limp.

Standing off to the side was Voolvif Monn, another Jedi master. He was a Shistavanen, a type of canine species that gave him the appearance of a wolf-man. The master, famous for his extreme attitude to nonattachment, looked uncomfortable in the crowded room. Still, he'd been a skilled Jedi general, fighting under Kenobi during the Battle of Muunilist and many other battles. He had also mastered a rare Force talent, the projection of shields through the Force.

There were only four other Jedi Semreh recognized. One, Master Sha Koon, was the niece of Master Plo Koon. She'd fought during the Stark Hyperspace war and again in the Clone Wars. Most of her face was obscured by the black mask all Kel Dor were forced to wear in oxygen, but here face seemed as serene as always.

Hanna Ding, a female Arkanian padawan who had fought in the Clone wars, was leaning against the wall, looking exhausted. Thinking back, Semreh vaguely remembered Scout talking about her fight with Hanna. A little haunty, she fixed Semreh with a cool stare, eyes analyzing him beneath her white skin and hair. She was younger than Semreh, and had never even spoken to him.

At her feet was Lena Missa, another fellow padawan from the temple. Semreh had never been close to her, and knew next to nothing about her. She'd been a padawan, but younger and therefore there was not a lot of interaction. A Chagrian, she was missing her left lethorn, a type of horn that hung from a fleshy stretch of skin hanging from her neck. It ended in a charred stump.

Finally, there was Bant Eerin, a Mon Calamari master. Her salmon colored skin was pale, probably from the lack of moisture in the room, but her bright round eyes were focusing on Semreh as she tended to a wounded Jedi that was sprawled out in front of her.

The wounded Jedi was another Arkanian. Her white head was twisted in pain as Bant continued to operate, working the blaster burn on her leg. Also nearby was a bald man, dressed in the rags of his Jedi robes, another man, who looked unharmed, but had a smear of blood across her blond hair, and finally a grey skinned Ithorian.

* * *

"Semreh!" Elena yelled, getting to her feet and throwing her arms around him. "You're alive."

"I think so." He answered a little numbly. "Assuming you're all really here."

"It's not a hallucination padawan." Sha Koon said, her arms folded neatly in her robes.

"We all fled here from various points in the galaxy." Bant explained, letting one of the other Jedi take over her patient. "I'm assuming you were ambushed by clones as well."

Semreh shook his head. "No, I was at the Temple when the clones attacked."

Halber looked surprised, as did the rest of the Jedi. Bant hung her head. "Your master?"

Semreh couldn't meet her eyes. Bant and his master had been close companions. "Dead. Covering our retreat."

"Our?" Halber exclaimed. "Who else escaped?"

Semreh considered withholding that information. He didn't exactly know what was going on, and whether all the masters here could be trusted. The last couple of months had drained what little trust he'd had left from the wars. Still, he felt relatively safe.

"Tallisibeth." He said, looking over at Halber and Elena. "You remember? Red hair. Kinda bossy and loud."

The two nodded in remembrance. Most padawans knew each other, similar to how a class of children who had gone to school together since their first year knew each other. After all, they'd all trained together since their first year of birth. Semreh realized that he may have been a rare exception to the rule.

Looking back, Semreh wistfully regretted his many hours spent in the archives. He realized now that he'd never forged the connections growing up that the other padawans had. And after Aubrie's death, he'd refused to make any more. Elena and Halber had many memories of their fellow Jedi, but Semreh had missed his chance.

"She survived?" Elena murmured, a little surprised.

"I don't believe it?" Hanna exclaimed, before Lena reached up and elbowed her in the side. Hanna fell silent, glaring down at the Chagrian girl.

"We escaped through the sewer system." Semreh explained, now addressing the whole room. "Then, we hitchhiked our way across the galaxy and eventually made our way to Melida/Daan."

"Why hide out there?" Lena asked.

"Because Melida/Daan owes the Jedi." Bant answered, her eyes thoughtful. "And Nield, their leader, owes us personally because of an incident with Master Obi wan."

Semreh nodded, then proceeded to tell the Jedi about his planned rebellion and how it was beginning to take shape. He told them about the Commonality and the preparations they were all making. About how the Empire had been moving, invading planets like Kashyyyk and how Imperial fleets had been moving towards Naboo. Needless to say, many of the Jedi exchanged guilty glances.

"It's because of us." Ulix murmured, his face falling. Apailana, still standing behind Semreh, hesitated, then nodded.

"I gave orders for my officers to keep any Jedi a secret, but it's become increasingly clear that someone's passing information to the Empire. Someone in the upper echelons of my staff."

"Why are you so sure its Panaka?" Semreh inquired. "There are others who could be passing that information."

"Yes, but Panaka has expressed his disagreement with my order from day one. And, there is substantial evidence to suggest that he is communicating with the Empire."

"What about Typho?" Semreh asked, referring to the one-eyed former guard of Amidala. "He was pretty high ranking."

The Queen's face flashed with worry, but then regained its composure. "Gregor Typho left on a personal mission shortly after our attack on the enemy garrison. Haven't heard from him since, so I suspect the worse."

"It's possible he defected." Semreh mused, but the Queen shook his head.

"He wouldn't be able to pass information then," Apailana answered. "And the Empire doesn't really need more security officers. No, if he hasn't reported yet, it's unlikely he's still alive."

"Then… Panaka has betrayed Naboo?"

"Not Naboo." Apailana said sadly. "Me. He thinks he's doing what's best for Naboo after all. But he doesn't trust Jedi very much. Even during the Invasion of Naboo, he supposedly disagreed with many of their decisions."

Semreh looked thoughtful. Panaka, though probably not a traitor, was probably a sympathizer in a dangerously high position. If he split the RSF, then Naboo would not be able to resist.

"I suppose this is partially my fault." Apailana admitted. "He believed I shouldn't have acted so rashly during the incident with the garrison, and that hiding Jedi would only aggravate the Empire." She looked away, as if staring into the distance. "I suppose he was right."

"Well," Sha Koon said in a slightly raised voice, charged with authority. "It seems to me as though our main goal should be to leave Naboo as quickly as possible. If there are no Jedi here, there's no need for the Imperials to attack and occupy the planet."

It made sense, but Semreh had his doubts. "Do you really think the Empire would simply leave Naboo alone if we left?"

"No," Sha Koon shook her head, "But we can't be the cause of that. Besides, with the Jedi Order in the state it's in, our duty is to survive."

Semreh looked at Apailana for confirmation. She nodded. "Don't worry. Naboo will be all right. The Empire can't afford to abuse its power this early in the game. Not unless they can present a viable reason."

"Seems like they already did at Kashyyyk." Semreh murmured, but fell silent. It felt good, to be able to relinquish command. If he was right, Sha Koon was the highest ranking Jedi, putting her in command. To be honest, handing her control was probably the best thing to do right now.

"For that, we'll need transport." Sha Koon looked at Semreh meaningfully. The young padawan just shrugged.

"Don't look at me." He said. "The freighter I took was shot to hell on the way here."

"I can provide transport." The Queen interrupted. "I can have transports fueled and ready within two hours."

"And Bravo Squadron?"

"Yours to do with as you please." The Queen shrugged. "After all, I still want your support in this war."

"Will do milady." Sha Koon said with a nod and signaled for the Jedi to begin filing out.

* * *

As they did, Semreh noticed that, despite being wounded, most of them were relatively healed up. True, most blaster wounds took a long time to heal, even with the Force to help, but they all seemed fighting fit. Lena, following Hanna out of the room, stopped in front of Semreh.

"You said Scout was okay?" She whispered. "You're sure?"

"Yeah." Semreh replied. "You know her?"

"Yeah, we were friends. It'll be good to see her again." Lena looked happier, and had a livelier bounce in her step. "Where is she?"

"She'll be here." Semreh assured. "Though I should probably tell her to meet us somewhere else now that the Imps are moving in."

She nodded and moved on. Following her was Master Sha Koon. The master looked serious and even her Force signature seemed to lack anything other than blunt focus.

"Semreh," She whispered into her ear when the last of the Jedi had left the room. "May I speak to you?"

"Of course master." Semreh obliged, bowing. "What is it?"

The Kel Dor master adjusted her mask, a sure sign she was disturbed. "What are you thinking, trying to gather the Jedi?"

Semreh was surprised by her rebuke. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you get the message from the Temple? It said to hide, not attack the Empire or band together."

"But we can't simply stand aside and let the galaxy fall to the Sith. It's our duty as Jedi to-"

"The galaxy doesn't want us to act as Jedi right now." Sha Koon said insistently. "They want us to crawl in a hole and die."

"Are you saying we should abandon them? Jedi stop injustice. Why, even when an enemy wishes to kill himself we stop it."

"This is different Semreh." Sha Koon continued. "Very different. For once, the Jedi need to look after the Jedi. Besides, starting a rebellion won't help the people of the galaxy; it will only aggravate their suffering."

Semreh felt his heat stop. Somehow, deep in the Force, he knew she was right. Was he only ruining the lives of more people, starting this war? Was asking a planet of people to sacrifice for the greater justice and injustice in and of itself. Was it the Jedi thing to do?

"You can do this if you truly think its right Semreh." Sha Koon continued, folding her hands within the sleeves of her robes. "But do it for the right reasons." The wise master left, her robes fluttering around her feet as she walked down the hallway, leaving Semreh to think.

Before she left, he turned to her. "Master." He said solemnly. "Have you heard anything about Master Plo Koon."

She stopped, then turned slowly to face him. "Yes. I felt him die."

Semreh didn't know what to say. Losing a family member was hard, even for the supposedly unattached Jedi. Feeling one slip away through the force was worse.

"I'm sorry." He managed to force out at last.

"Don't be." She replied, already continuing down the tunnel. "He's one with the Force now."

* * *

In the Queen's main Chamber, a crisis was building as Semreh left the tunnel. The Jedi were all gathered in a group next to the Queen, quiet observers to the turmoil around them. The guards of the Queen, including Gavin, several advisors, and her personal handmaidens, were all pouring over star charts and holograms brought. Apailana herself sat behind her desk, dressed in her scarlet royal robes, her face painted the white with the red scar of remembrance painted below her lips.

Semreh had read about the scar. Supposedly, it represented the memory of a warlike time in Naboo's past, and was a reminder of the value of peace. At the moment, Semreh found it rather ironic. Also in the room, were the Chasers, who were helping the high ranking guards and advisors read the charts, and Tara, who was standing off, alone in the corner.

"What's going on?" he asked, sideling up next to her.

"The Imperials are here." She answered without looking. "They exited hyperspace while you were talking to the Queen. You know, before a dozen Jedi just showed up." Tara turned to look at him, clearly a little put off that he hadn't trusted her with that particular knowledge.

"Hey, I didn't know about them!" He raised his hand in protest. "Besides, who'd complain about a couple extra lightsabers at their back?"

She crossed her arms, glaring at him like a mother who had caught a child playing with scissors. Funny, how a girl as skinny and wiry as her could manage to look as solid as an oak with her arms crossed. He flashed his most charming grin at her, trying to cool her icy stare. Gradually, her face fell into a smile.

"All right." She said finally, uncrossing her arms. "But what do you propose to do now, mr-"

There was a loud crash and bang, then en enormous green light lit up the window behind the Queen's desk. Semreh screamed, but he didn't hear anything come out of his mouth. Instead, he turned, tossing Tara to the ground as he did, and covered her with as much of his body as he could.

For a couple of seconds, there was just an eerie green light illuminating the dust that had risen in the room. Then, it began to clear. Through the Force, Semreh sensed the other Jedi, a cluster of pure Force energy all focused on the window where what Semreh suspected was a turbolaser blast had impacted.

When the air finally cleared, he saw Masters Bant and Glynn-Beti helping the Queen and other sto their feet, while Master Voolif Monn, standing behind them before the remains of the rapidly melting window, projected a shimmering field of Force energy. He seemed to be drawing from every Jedi in the room, even Semreh.

"They're trying to assassinate the Queen!" Semreh yelled in warning jumping to his feet.

"Everyone out." He growled, letting his hands drop and grabbing a wounded soldier. The shimmering field of Force energy dissipated. "They've got us zeroed!"

His words seemed to break everyone out of limbo, and palace guards and officers began rushing about, carrying wounded and snapping orders to their aides.

"What the hell was that!?" Lena yelled, holding her ears as she stumbled around. Semreh got off of Tara and rushed over to her, helping her walk across the room even as he pried her fingers off her ears.

"Let me see!" He said, forcing her down. He looked at them carefully, checking for damage. There certainly was, though he couldn't tell how bad it was. Semreh looked around, then waved for a wide eyed Hanna to get over here. She obliged, albeit very shakily.

"Get her down to the lower levels." Semreh said, pushing them along. The two of them hurried, running down the many steps as fast as they could. Semreh looked around, and saw that most of the Jedi and troopers were rushing towards the lower levels, where the turbolaser fire wouldn't reach them as easily.

"Why aren't they firing anymore!?" Elena yelled over the noise of troopers and officers shouting orders.

"They don't want to damage the city." Halber answered, running up besides her. "Harder to hide that kind of damage from the public." Semreh nodded in agreement, and followed the flood of people to the lower levels.

Once they reached the makeshift war room set up in the lower level of the palace, Semreh soon found the Queen, ruffled, but otherwise unhurt. The rest of the Jedi had gathered there as well, standing at comlink stations, and joining Apailana in taking command of the situation.

"Queen Apailana." One Naboo communications officer yelled from his station. "Long range sensors report three Victory Star Destroyers deploying gunships and landers."

"Are any of our fighters in the air yet?" She asked, waving away a medic who was checking her face. She looked at commander Ellberger, who was listening into a comlink.

"Alpha and Beta flights are in the air ma'am, but they're not formed up for an attack run, and those Star Destroyers are already deploying fighters."

"Can we get any type of air support to slow their landing?"

Ellberger just shook her head. "Not before those landers start landing their troops. We might be able to cut off their reinforcements, or at least slow them down, but not stop that first wave."

"Where are those landers headed?" Semreh snapped.

"For Theed." She said, unfurling a map of the city. She laid it out on a desk, pointing at the Royal District. "Their target will be the Queen, which means they'll try to lay siege to the Royal Plaza." She looked up from the map, yelling at one of the communications officers. "We need every RSF Officer back at the Palace now. Tell them that if they're met with Imperial resistance, they should break through any Imperial barricades and join us in the plaza."

"Technician!" She yelled, and a young RSF officer hurried over. "Are Plaza security measures up and running?"

"Yes ma'am." He said, pointing at various areas in the plaza map. "We have a particle cannon set up in the main entrance to the palace, plus various smaller barricades and turrets placed at strategic points across the Royal district."

"Good, make sure every one of them is manned by at least a squad of troopers and officers." She patted him on the shoulder, then turned to the room, addressing the entire congregation. "All right, listen up; I want every squad we can find back here." She turned to another group of officers, who were speaking quickly into their comlinks. "Motor pool officer, get as many of our armed vehicles set up at security checkpoints, but hold back a few to repel whatever landing force they send, along with a squad of troopers."

The officers hurried to their assigned tasks, every one of them now carrying either pistols or rifles. Semreh watched them, and suddenly realized this, this right here, was the beginning of the armed resistance of the rebellion. If they could win here, they would show the galaxy that the Empire could and would be beat. It would be obvious and very public…And devastating for the Empire.

* * *

Seth didn't feel his gunship hit the ground, but as the doors slid back, the commanding officer yelled for them to jump out. Seth did so without hesitation and rolled as his body hit the ground. For a long second, there was only the sound of the gunship's repulsorlifts above him, then the dust kicked up by the gunship cleared, and Seth was standing, alongside a squad of stormtroopers. The commander, SC -568 was already giving orders, having his men form up for attack.

The gunship had not waited long once their ship had exited hyperspace. As soon as they entered real space, the gunship, which had been hovering in place for the whole short ride, had shot out, proceeding directly towards Theed ahead of the rest of the fleet.

""We need to secure a landing zone for any following troops." SC-568 said, waving his men into skirmishing lines. They began advancing by twos and threes, their weapons scanning for movement. "Go to helmet comms only."

The men obliged, now only whispering into their helmet's com units rather than talking aloud. The troopers made their way forward, crouching to avoid being seen by any RSF troopers. For a couple blocks, there was dead silence. Even the civilians were snug, in their beds. Then, Seth saw something small and spherical bounce and roll its way into the middle of the squad. The world seemed to stop. Then…

"EVERYBODY DOWN!" SC-568 screamed, throwing himself to the side. Seth followed suit, and a second later, he hit the ground hard. There was an explosion, and Seth felt himself lifted up, into the air, spinning. He hit the wall of a building flanking the narrow street, and felt his bones creak even as he pushed himself up.

Charging towards the disoriented stormtroopers was a squad of security officers, rifles and pistols flashing. Seth pushed himself onto one knee, firing his blaster wildly as he did with one hand. Around him, the rest of the squad was responding similarly, crouching low behind any piece of cover they could find and returning fire.

The narrow street was filling with them, and the security forces quickly outnumbered the bewildered stormtroopers. Seth advanced nonetheless, using his Force abilities to sense the security officer's attacks well before they even pulled the trigger. Seth rolled an dodged, lunging forward well ahead of the stormtroopers, and soon he found himself leading the attack down the street towards their designated landing zone; an open rotunda large enough to support the heavier landing struts of the _Jadthu_-class landing ships, each of which held at least sixty stormtroopers. If they were to take Theed, getting those to ground was the first step.

Seth dropped as one officer popped out from an alley in front of him, pistol raised. He tried to adjust his aim as Seth came at him, but couldn't before Seth rammed his left fist into the man's stomach. Meanwhile, his right hand raised the E-11 and sent a spray of fire through a squad that had just rounded the corner. He hit two, wounding them, and the rest turned their rifles on him. Seth ducked into the alley his adversary had just tried to ambush him from.

Seth looked around, and saw more Imperial stormtroopers were pouring into the street. Reinforcements from gunships no doubt. As they continued to push the Security officers back, Seth decided he had no reason to continue fighting them. After all, his mission was to kill the Queen, not secure Theed. Leave that to the grunts.

Firing a single blaster shot into the security officer he'd left on the ground, Seth turned and ran down the alley, leaving the stormtroopers to mop up the rest.

* * *

Outside the front of the palace there was a wide and open Plaza. This Plaza was the key for the entire battle, as the one who controlled it could move troops and vehicles across its wide surface. It was basically a three way intersection, with one street going to the left of the front of the palace, another going straight out of the palace center, and finally, another going to the right. It was quickly embroiled in a battle between the RSF and stormtroopers.

Gavin, having a wide variety of skills from the first battle of Naboo, had left for the motor pool as soon as Ellberger had given the order. He took Hollis with him, and soon, they found themselves in a Flash speeder, heading directly towards the battle.

The Flash speeder was a light vessel used during the Battle of Naboo by resistance groups, and during peace time for patrol. It had one light cannon mounted on its rear, with a small missile launcher slung underneath that. However, that was it and the Flash speeder relied on speed rather than power to get through firefights.

Unfortunately, that wasn't always enough. To his right, Gavin saw a speeder seem to stumble, then nosed down, its front crashing into the street even as its rear repulsorlift tried to keep it moving. A second later, a pair of laser bolts the size of Gavin's whole body smashed into it, disintegrating the pilots.

"Keep moving!" Gavin yelled into his com. "Don't give 'em a steady target. Gian speeders, form up into a skirmish line and lay down cover fire. Flash speeders, get up there and chase those rocket troopers out of cover."

The speeders acted immediately. The Gian speeders, heavy types of flash speeders with massive plating and three separate heavy cannons pointed front, formed into a long line. The Flash speeders sped forward, dodging the heavy missiles and rockets launcher by the heavy troopers, and returning fire with their rear mounted cannons. The streets largely cleared, the Flash speeders needed to herd any Imperials still in cover out into the open, where they could be mowed down by the Gians.

It was a good plan, save that the stormtroopers were very well trained, and that the _Jadthu_-class landers were already there, and pouring their contents onto the battlefield. Contents that included Imperial tanks.

The first indicator that Gavin had that something was wrong was a panicked yell over his comlink. This was followed by more yells and worried cries, and soon, Gavin saw the angled plating of a TX-130T fighter tank. He only glimpsed it however, because a second later, it open fire, and Gavin's world spun, then went black.

* * *

"We need three squads here and here." Semreh said, pointing at the map of Theed as he, Master Sha Koon, and the Queen looked it over. "Two in front, supporting each other, one in reserve. If we can keep them from landing troops in the Royal Plaza, then we can hold Theed until our fighter screen is in place." He looked over to Ellberger, who was coordinating their air units. The old woman shook her head.

"We have three flights in the air and formed up, but they're scattered and disorganized. Plus, the enemy seems to be trying to set up their own fighter screen around Theed. Our current strength of fighters can't break through." The woman, pointed at the palace, more specifically, the west wing of the palace. "All we have are whatever fighters we have in the royal hanger, and I'm not risking them in case we need to blast the Queen out of here."

Semreh nodded, understanding her reasoning. He would have done the same thing. Still, he knew that to reach the hanger, they needed to hold the plaza, otherwise they'd be cut off in the central wing of the palace, and there'd be no where to run. Semreh looked over the map again.

According to early reports, the Empire had landed a platoon of troopers in one of the outer districts, and had quickly worked their way through the narrow streets to an area wide enough to allow heavy landers to land, but also close enough to deliver troopers right to the battlefield.

Semreh had originally thought that two squads would be enough to repel the initial landing platoon that was reported, but new reports were streaming in and it sounded like stormtroopers were breaking through barriers the RSF had set up despite fierce resistance. Soon, those landers would land, and they would pour the streets with troopers. This was unacceptable.

"Master Bant." Semreh exclaimed, turning as a webbed hand touched his shoulder. The Mon Calamari master had been looking after the wounded with the rest of the Jedi.

"What's going on Semreh?" The calm master murmured to him. Semreh turned back to the map, circling two locations, the first one the Plaza where the RSF had prepared a massive particle cannon to help defend the palace gates, and the hanger, where the Queen would probably have to evacuate eventually.

"We need to keep this cannon up, and a path clear to the hanger." Semreh explained to her. "It'll be our escape route if the worst happens. For that, we need to pull all our forces back from their barricades to here." Semreh jabbed a finger at the Plaza, a large rectangular area in front of the palace. "We center our defense on the particle cannon, and dig in, make them have to fight through its fire."

Bant nodded, and looked at Master Sha Koon, who nodded. "It's a good plan, but what about the Queen? We can't just make a run for the hanger. The troopers would pour too much firepower on us."

At that moment, the entire palace shook, dust shaking from the ancient roof.

"What the hell was that?" Elena said, looking up from an injured trooper she'd been treating.

"Artillery." Master Sha Koon said aloud, not to anyone in particular.

"Queen Apailana!" One communications officer said from his makeshift desk. "Our squads are reporting TX-130T fighter tanks entering the Plaza. They're supporting an advance of infantry coming down through the main street. Our forces are falling back to the particle gun."

Semreh swore and hurried to a window of the palace. He saw a pair of the sleek tanks, their heavily armored fronts impenetrable to everything short of a rocket launcher, flash burning RSF officers with their cannons. A second later, Semreh threw himself to the side as a rocket from one of the tanks hit a wall near where he'd been standing.

He got to his feet, dusting himself off with a curse. "Those tanks could destroy any remaining resistance. Where the hell did they come from?"

"That must have been one of their reasons for finding a suitable landing zone." Glynn-Beti said, her face still locked in a stern mask of serenity, but her fur was bristling. "Can the particle cannon destroy them?"

Semreh, not knowing the answer himself, looked at Apailana. She nodded. "The particle cannon will destroy them before they even get within range of it. Even if the tanks do manage to hit it, it has almost impenetrable armor." She explained, pointing at a holoprojector of the battle. In the streets below, there was fierce fire coming from all sides of the Plaza. It was turning less into a firefight, and more into a melee.

Still, as one of the tanks progressed a little too far, it suddenly stopped dead in its tracks, and exploded, the victim of a concentrated blast from the particle cannon. The cannon began gunning down troopers too, and Semreh was pleased to see large numbers either falling back or taking cover wherever they could find it.

"How are we controlling that turret?" Semreh asked. Where's the consol?"

"Outside, on that balcony to the right of the turret." The Queen said, pointing at a raised platform connected to the ground by a set of stairs. The platform was manned by a squad of RSF troopers, who were carefully monitoring the battle. One of them was standing in front of a computer, carefully adjusting the cannon.

"We have spotters watching the battle and coordinating the gun from up there." She explained hurriedly. "They also double as a squad to protect the consol."

Semreh shook his head. "It's not enough. Get half the squads you have available to that street, leave the other half to form a perimeter around the cannon."

"But won't the stormtroopers start to break through the center then." Apailana said, her face looking alarmed, but Semreh only shook his head.

"Not if the cannons supporting them." He replied confidently. "That cannon is the only thing keeping us from defeat at this point. We can't afford to lose it." Semreh turned, looking at Apailana sideways. "Speaking of which, it's time to get you to the hanger I think milady."

The Queen looked surprised, and then filled with indignant anger. "I most certainly will not. While Naboo fights on, I will fight with it-"

"And that's exactly why you must leave." Master Sha Koon said, arriving flanked by Glynn-Beti and Voolvif Monn. The three looked battle ready and were clutching their lightsabers in their hands. Behind them, the other Jedi and padawans were readying themselves.

"If you fall, Naboo falls." Glynn-Beti explained, looking at Sha Koon, a little uneasily. She quickly mastered herself. "If you fall, the troopers will listen to the next in command, which happens to be Panaka."

Semreh jerked in surprise, and saw the Queen do the same out of the corner of his eye. Evidently, neither of them had considered that. If the Queen died, Panaka could simply order the RSF to surrender across the entire planet. It would be the perfect coup.

"This is my fault." The Queen said despairingly, sitting heavily in a chair. "I should have removed him a long time ago, but he had so much support in the ranks…"

"It's too late to worry about that now." Master Sha Koon said, her hand fingering her saber. "At the moment, you are thinking as if you're already dead. The solution," she said, raising a single finger in the air, as if enlightened, "is to not allow that to happen."

Semreh nodded. "I've been thinking, and I think we can get you out of here. Even with hundreds of stormtroopers banging on the palace gates."

**_Next chapter coming up soon._**


	54. Chapter 54 Escape from the Palace

**_All right, we are nearing the climatic confrontation of Arc 1._**

"I suppose I should apologize." Semreh began, explaining his plan. Every Jedi, Palace guard, and Handmaiden was assembled around him. They'd need every able bodied man and woman for this, but if it worked…

"I sorta stole this idea from the Naboo security plan for the Queen." He pointed at the map of Theed before them. "Now, the Imperials will expect us to try and escape alone the path of least resistance. And that's here." He pointed at the street to the left of the palace. "The idea being that we circle around their force and attempt to escape in the Royal hanger."

Semreh drew a path with his finger, tracing the path that they should, in theory anyways, take. It was a narrow street that cut to the left of the palace gate and continued around the plaza in a wide detour and ended on the other side, at the royal hanger.

The center street, the most direct towards the hanger, was filled with troopers, and therefore a deathtrap for escape. However, there were less guarding the side street.

"However, no doubt the Imperials have realized this and are waiting. As soon as we leave, I suspect tanks and troops would pursue us."

"A logical conclusion padawan." Sha Koon agreed. "So the obvious problem…"

"Is making sure said pursuers are occupied." Bant finished. "So, a diversion?"

"Yes." Semreh nodded.

"Really?" Hanna groaned, looking at him. "A diversion? That's the best we can come up with. What makes you think they'll take the bait?"

"Because, we are going to make it very, very realistic." Semreh answered confidently. "We'll send half our Jedi, every vehicle we can spare, and the Chasers down that street, along with a decoy of the Queen. It'll be a mobile convoy of speeders, a target the tanks couldn't possibly miss. Plus, by sending at least part of the Jedi, we add a bit of believability to the ruse." He traced a second path, this one straight up the center of the plaza.

"Once the tanks and troopers have taken the bait, the Queen, her handmaidens, and the remaining Jedi and RSF units will punch straight through the middle of any remaining resistance, moving on foot to the hanger. Logically," Semreh shrugged. "Well, if the decoy convoy creates enough trouble, then, even on foot, they should reach the hanger before any Imperials."

"Yes." Sha Koon murmured. "A good plan, but it all relies on the diversion convoy drawing off the tanks. All the tanks. There are at least three out there you know."

"I know." Semreh continued. "But perhaps the particle cannon will help solve that particular problem. As long as it stays on line long enough to cover the Queen's escape, then this plan _will_ succeed."

He emphasized the word _will_, trying to get across to the group that this was their do-or-die moment. If they failed and all died, the rebellion would probably die with them. If they died, the Jedi Order may die with them as well. If they died…everything they believe in died. Naboo would fall, and the Jedi Order would lose more members that it just couldn't afford to waste.

"Now, let's split into teams." Sha Koon commanded. "The Decoy team will consist of Semreh, Elena, Halber, Lena, and Hanna, along with any RSF you can gather, and speeders that are still working."

Semreh started slightly. Most of the masterless padawans were in that group. Sha Koonattempting to keep them aliveby giving them the least dangerous job? Or a strategic sacrifice meant to keep those with most of the knowledge of the Jedi Order alive? Either way, it didn't matter. Semreh could understand the decision. The best Jedi would have to guard the actual Queen.

Semreh nodded, resting his right hand on the blaster in his belt. "We'll keep the Imps busy."He turned to the rest of the padawans, RSF officers, and Chasers that would make up their decoy convoy. Fless and Sten looked calm, as if this was something they did on a regular basis…and Semreh supposed that was true. Protecting, bodyguard work…that was what the Shield Chasers were all about.

Elena looked eager to get going, and was stretching and pacing. She looked like some type of predator ready for a hunt. Halberwas leaning against a wall, pressing his forehead to his repeating rifle, in an almost meditative stance. Lena was examining her lightsaber behind him, and whispered something to him that made him grin slightly. Hanna had ignited her own saber, and was passing it from hand to hand, going through all the preparations as if it were a padawan tournament back at the Temple.

On the other side of the room, the Queen was speaking to one of her handmaidens, a woman named Dabe, who would provide the illusion that the Queen was escaping for the Decoy convoy. She looked very similar, and would be hard to distinguish from the Queen on the battlefield. More importantly, she could shoot, which would come in handy when the convoy had to shoot its way out of trouble.

"_Shoot our way out of trouble."_Semreh thought with grim humor. _"Yeah, right."_

The only plausible escape plan for the decoys would be to make a break for the outside of the city and the countryside. Maybe then, Semreh and the Chasers could set up some kind of resistance group or something. Either way, the Queen would escape, and Sha Koon could take command of the resistance. Maybe finally, Semreh could get some rest.

He knew he was being foolish, but was it too much to ask.

* * *

The _Arrow_ fell out of hyperspace like a stone that had gently plopped into a river. Of course, if that was true, it was a river filled with piranhas, and sharks. Somehow, that analogy did not compare to the rather impressive string of curses that Sonya let off when their ship appeared among a ring of three Star Destroyers.

"The Imps are already here!?" Scout exclaimed, bracing herself in her seat. "Where's Semreh's comlink signal? Is it still in system?"

"Checking…" Sonya murmured, her hands flying over the _Arrow's_console. A second later, she looked up, nodding her head. "Yeah, but you're not gonna like this." She brought up a holoprojector of the planet and its surrounding orbit. The three Star Destroyers hung, suspended like daggers in a puppet show, their weapons trained at the planet.

"We should be able to slip by them." Sonya explained, already angling their ship so it would slide beneath the ships. "But his signature is coming from Theed which, if the Imperial's com chatter is right, is where all the heavy action is taking place. Plus, getting back out could be a problem, as they're trying to stop ships from escaping."

Scout leaned back against the wall of the _Arrow's_ cockpit, imagining what running a blockade like that would do to their ship. She was weighing the odds, and they didn't look good.

"_Oh boy_." She thought, strapping herself into the copilot seat. "_Why couldn't I be born a Corellian_?"

But aloud she only murmured. "Lock onto Semreh's signature and take us down."

* * *

Semrehwas ready, as were the rest of Decoy squad. Waiting just outside the palace were five Flash speeders, each able to hold eight people, though they would be squished. Bravo Squadron would take the leading two speeders, while Semreh, Elena, Halber, Lena, Tara and Hanna took the third speeder, plus the two Chasers, making a point of protecting the decoy queen Dabe.

They'd fly down the streets, flashing their lightsabers like idiots and causing as much chaos as possible. Hopefully, they'd be able to make it down the street and be off, drawing the stormtroopers and their tanks down there. Then, once the line of stormtroopers was thinner, the Queen and her bodyguards would punch down the main street and rush as quickly as they could to the hanger.

The main idea was to keep the tanks occupied in the twisting side street long enough for the Queen to make it to the hanger and take off. However, even if the Decoy squad could only delay them a short time, hopefully the side street would be a long enough detour to provide the Queen with enough of a head start to make it there first. Either way, the Queen escapes.

"_And we die."_Semreh thought grimly, looking at his fellow Jedi. Across the way, the rest of the Jedi looked sullen and even a little sad. Semrehcouldn't help but get the feeling that they had wanted this job. After all, death would be nothing compared to having to live in hiding the rest of your life. Still, Semrehhad a strong desire to live, if only long enough to see his rebellion take fruit.

"Padawan Semreh, come here."

Semreh turned, and saw Master Sha Koon standing cross armed before the large double doors of the palace. She had a sad look in her eyes as the rest of the Decoy team gathered, in a single file line in front of the front door.

Semreh expected some speech about dying for the Jedi and the Republic. For justice…or something. Instead, all Master Koon whispered was, "Thank you."

She bowed her head and stepped aside, flinging open the door with the Force. With a roar, Semreh stepped out, igniting his lightsaber, and the battle was on.

* * *

Seth surveyed the battle from his perch atop one of the buildings of the main plaza. It was far to tall and steep for any normal trooper to climb, and he may have been drawing a little too much attention to himself. Still, he could see everything from up there, and the cool breeze felt good when he took off his helmet. At least, one of his helmets.

Below him, the stormtroopers were trying desperately to make their way through a large platoon of RSF officers, trying to make their way to the console controlling the particle cannon no doubt. They were having trouble. The RSF had the advantage of terrain, elevation, and firepower. Of course, the RSF units couldn't move beyond the range of the particle cannon, or else risk being flanked and destroyed by the better trained and more numerous stormtroopers.

So, it was a stalemate. At least, it was as long as that cannon was in the way. Seth watched emotionlesslyas another squad of hapless troopers tried to rush the cannon and was beaten back by a wave of blasterfire. Finally, he let out a sigh and placed his helmet back onto his head.

"Well, I suppose the most logical step is to destroy that cannon first." He said to himself with a sigh. "Otherwise, entering the palace will become that much more complicated."

Stepping out, he braced his feet on the side of the building and leaned forward, clutching the side of the edge with his hands. Below him, the RSFtroopers were unaware of his presence. Then, Seth let go, somersaulting through the air twice like a hawkbat. The fall was long, at least a hundred feet. Using the Force, Seth slowed his descent ever so slightly, and landed, almost silently, within the circle of RSF troopers manning the cannon console.

There were six troopers total, all of them surrounding the console. One who happened to be looking at him at the time gaped for a moment before Seth reached out with a lightning quick hand, grasping the man's neck and, oh so gently, pushing him over the edge of the balcony. The troopers who had been flanking the falling guard turned in surprise, drawing their side arms, but Seth's spun sideways through the air, catching one in the head with the side of his foot in an upward kick while other he grabbed by the ankle.

Seth jerked the ankle sharply as he stood up, throwing the man off balance. As the guards arms waved desperately, Seth reached out and gently squeezed the trigger of his blaster, sending two bolts into two other guards as the blaster wind milled. Lifting the man up by his ankle, he swung the man into the trooper manning the console before he even realized what was happening. The collapsed in a huddle, falling down the steps.

Seth pulled out one of the thermal detonators at his stormtrooper belt, setting the timer and jamming it into a mass of wires and fragile electronic components. He ran, taking cover on the other side of the staircase as flame enveloped the area, burning any of the unconscious RSF troopers left on the balcony to charred hunks of meat.

As the flames died down, Seth saw a wave of stormtroopers steadily advancing, cutting down the RSF officers as they did. They were emboldened now by the sudden cease of fire from the cannon. The RSF rout was imminent, and, according to Seth's calculations, now was when the Queen would attempt to escape. And Seth would be waiting.

Approaching the leading squad of troopers, Seth wordlessly jerked his head towards the palace entrance, where the RSFseemed to be forming a skirmish line. The commander nodded, murmuring something in an awestruck voice about an amazing capture. With a wave of his hand, the stormtroopers began attacking, engaging the RSF line before it could fully form up.

Seth wordlessly approached one of them, a stormtrooper carrying a long barreled sniper rifle. The stormtrooper did nothing, simply waiting calmly. Then, Seth grabbed the stock, yanking it out of his hands. The trooper protested angrily, but a single raised palm shut him up as Seth continued up to the balcony he'd just cleared. It was the easiest position from which to snipe, even if it did now smell like burned meat and hair.

He set up, resting the barrel of the weapon on the railing of the balcony. And just in time. A second later, there was a loud hiss. No, not loud. Almost quiet, but there were several of them, making them sound like a nest of dangerous reptiles gone frenzied. Seth turned his rifle to face the noise.

There, standing in the palace gate, surrounded by Naboo's only reserveguard, the palace guards, were four Jedi. They were children. The oldest couldn't possibly be past his early twenties, and the youngest looked six or seventeen. They and the palace guard gave a roar, and a flare of energy rose up as the RSF and palace guards surged forward, making their way towards a convoy of speeders waiting near the wall. They fired on the stormtroopers, briefly beating them back with their desperation.

It provided the Jedi and the Queen to escape into the convoy of speeders. They gave short jerks, and then shot off, their twin repulsorlifts burning jets down a nearby street before the stormtroopers could stop them. They burst through the thin line, keeping their heads down as they did so the blaster bolts merely splashed against the speeders armored hulls.

However, they didn't get away clean. All three of the repulsor tanks jerked into action, moving with a speed that matched even the tiny speeders, and were in hot pursuit with several squads of stormtroopers in tow. Too many stormtroopers. In the confusion of battle, even the clones were a little disoriented. They had left only a few squads behind to hold the plaza.

Reaching out to the Force, Seth felt its currents, its ebbs, its flows, and suddenly, everything was clear. It was a diversion. A clumsy gambit by the Queen to escape. Still, with the particle cannon destroyed, perhaps it would be much easier. Readying his rifle, Seth waited, atop the balcony, for his prey.

* * *

Semreh usually knew when a plan of his went wrong. In fact, he knew the exact moment it went wrong. In the case of the Decoy convoy, it was the moment all three TX-130T fighter tanks turned down the street. Admittedly, that had been the whole point of their convoy, but success wasn't making Semreh feel any better in this case.

The TX-130T fighter tank was the pinnacle of light tank technology. Fast, agile, and exceptionally heavy when it came to armor and armaments, it was the tank of choice for Jedi commanders. Semrehhimself had fought a battle from the turret of one of them, and knew they were very effective. They had a crew of three; pilot, copilot, and a beam turret gunner.

Armed with heavy plate along their sloping fronts, the tanks could outlast most enemies while their twin laser cannons and proton torpedo launchers mounted on either side tore the enemy apart. Atop the hatch, there was also beam turret with three hundred sixty degree line of sight, stopping any enemies from boarding. In speed, they were a match for the Flash speeders, and unlike the open cockpit Flash speeders, their only real weak point was their bottom, where the unarmored repulsorlifts propelled it.

"Oh, wonderful." Elena growled as one of the rearguard speeders suddenly exploded into flame. "Maybe next time you can just line us up in front of an Imperial firing squad." She looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

Another explosion, and the final speeder between them and the tanks disappeared, reduced to a couple rumpled bodies and ash. "Well what?" Semreh snapped back.

"You're the idea guy!" She shouted, slapping the back of his head with an open palm. "So, you have anything yet?"

Semreh rubbed the back of his head, watching the tanks as they tried to get a lock on their speeder. At the controls, Fless was growling and cursing, trying rather desperately to stay out of the tanks sights.

Behind them, the tanks were arranged in a long column, unable to fully spread out in the narrow streets due to their bulk. Semreh looked at them, a little distressed. Then, he had an idea.

"Fless, keep driving!" He ordered sharply, grabbing Halber by the cuff of his tunic and pulling him to his feet. They were standing at full height now and Semreh pulled his lightsaber from his belt, ordering Halber to do the same. The lead tank was only thirty feet from them now.

"Okay," The red haired Chaser said, keeping his eyes on the road. "But what are you-"

Semreh didn't catch the rest of his question because, at that moment, he had leapt forward with a Force propelled leap, dragging an annoyed Halber with him, and landing on the front of the tank with a metallic thud. Halber, still gaping from the shock of having jumped thirty feet onto the front of a tank from the back of a moving speeder, rolled to the side as the beam turret on top of the tank sliced towards him, nearly taking his head with it.

Halber continued rolling, letting himself fall off the edge and cling to the bottom of the tank so the ground rushing below him was a mere foot from his back. Leaping forward, Semreh ignited his lightsaber, lashing out with it so it burned a neat hole through the front of the stormtrooper's helmet. The trooper fell back into his tank wordlessly and the beamed stopped.

"This is such a stupid reckless idea!" Halber exclaimed, pulling himself up. "What could have possibly possessed you to think this was a good idea?"

"Hey, they stopped firing." Semreh shot back with a shrug. A second later, a thud on the hull of the tank caused him to spin, almost scything through Elena, who had leapt from the speeder to the front of the tank.

"This is the best idea you've ever come up with!" She grinned in delight, already igniting her yellow saber. "What's next?"

Halber groaned, and pulled himself up from the tank's side. Then, a flash of light. Halber dashed forward, his saber arching inches past Semreh's head, intercepting the bolt that had been burning towards it, and sending it hurtling back towards its owner, a stormtrooperwho had climbed up, out of the turret to remove them. The trooper fell back, his blaster clattering against the armored hull of the tank, a neat hole smoking from his helmet's eye socket.

"You stay here. Try to burn your way inside." Semreh said without hesitation, as if nothing had happened. "We'll take out the other two tanks."

Elena gave a cheerful nod and began walking up the tanks sloped front towards its rear. A second later, the tank jerked harshly and she almost lost her balance, landing in Halber's arms. Her fellow Jedi steadied her, pushing her upright even as he began burning through the front armor of the tank with his green saber. It would take a while. After all, these tanks were made to resist cannons.

The tank driver was now jerking crazily, trying to throw them off now that both his copilot and gunner were dead. Somehow, it was still keeping up with the convoy, and Semreh saw that the speeder they'd just leapt from was in its sights. Semreh tossed Halber a small concussion grenade from his belt, telling him to use that once he was through, then followed Elena to the rear of the tank.

Elena and Semreh crept towards the top of the tank, trying to stay out of sight of the next tank in line. By now, the others realized something was wrong and were backing off. Their gunners on their beam turrets were alert and waiting. Still, there was no point in turning back now. Either they stopped these tanks, or the convoy was as good as gone.

"It's quite the jump." Elena murmured to herself. A brief look of doubt slid across her face.

"We'll try it." Semreh said confidently.

"Do," Elena chastised with a slick grin. "Or do not. There is no try."

Semreh scowled. The last thing he needed right now was a Yoda quote. "Just jump." He growled, and they leapt.

He felt Elena following him, a tornado of Force energy lifting them up. The kept their saber unignited, careful to not injure each other as they flipped through the air. Then, as suddenly as they'd risen, they plunged downward, hitting the front of the tank. They tucked into rolls to minimize the impact, rising up with sabers flashing. Semreh immediately plunged his own wand of blue flame into the tanks front, the smell of ozone burning his lungs as it chewed through the durasteel front. To his left, he heard a yelp of surprise, followed by a scream as Elena dealt with the gunner.

"Why not just go in through the hatch?" She asked, opening it enthusiastically. She jerked her head back as a blast of plasma energy shot out, nearly burning through her skull. "Okay." She said, resealing the hatch. "That's why."

"We need to cut through to the electronics." Semreh yelled over the roaring wind. "Ideally, we'd hit the bottom of the tank, but at these speeds…"

"Got it." Elena agreed, still on guard against any troopers planning to ambush them from below. "Cut a hole, drop a grenade. Can't be har-"

The tank slid under her feet, causing Elena to stumble violently. Her arms windmilled and it looked for a second like she might fall. She was only saved by a desperate Force grip from Semreh that caught her arm in a vice and pulled her back on.

"I've got it." She protested, shaking his grip off.

Semreh wordlessly returned to the front armor of the tanks sloped front, pressing his lightsaber deeper into its thick metal. It was slow going. The metal around the fiery blade was fraying, turning to molten slag from the sheer heat, but creating a hole large enough to break through would probably take another thirty seconds; thirty seconds they didn't have. Behind him, there was a metallic scraping sound, followed by a muffled yell and a blaster shot.

Elena was having troubles of her own. One of the stormtroopers had hauled himself out of the top hatch, and was grappling with a somehow lightsaber-less Elena. Semreh saw it a few lying feet from himself, but had to focus all his energy and skill into penetrating the tanks hull, leaving her to trade punches and jabs with the trooper alone.

Finally, Semreh was through. There was a book sized rectangular cut in the front, large enough for Semreh to slip the grenade inside. At that moment though, Semreh was forced to pause. They had given a lot of thought and effort into destroying the tank, but still hadn't actually thought out how to get back to their convoy.

A second later, the tank in front of them dropped, an explosion puffing its armor out, making it look like an overinflated spine collared toad. It dropped with a thud, its bottom screeching against the ground as its repulsorlifts died. Semreh glimpsed Halber leaping away from the burning tank, his robes charred, but otherwise looking unhurt. He landed gracefully back on the Flash speeder, holding on for dear life even as he looked back at the destruction he'd caused.

Elena was now rolling on the ground, her neck in the grip of the trooper, but she was ramming his side with a continuous flurry of hits, making the already winded trooper gasp with pain. As he leaned back, trying to catch his breathe, Elena brought her elbow up into his nose, bloodying it. The trooper released her neck, and now Elena was on top of him, her hands clasped around his throat. There was a wild look in her eye as she began choking the life out of the trooper.

Beneath Semreh's feet, the tank jerked wildly, dodging to the left of the disabled tank. For a moment, the port side repulsorlifts of the tank were pushing them off the walls of the streets buildings. Semreh held on tight, his arms straining against the force of gravity, before the armored vehicle finally settled out on the straight street again. Semreh couldn't help but admire the driver's skill.

Behind them, the third tank had also made it through and was, judging from how its powerful cannons were aimed, preparing to destroy the tank Elena and Semreh were riding. This, in and of itself, was not a problem. After all, that was why they'd leapt atop the tank to begin with; to destroy it. However, there was the small problem of them being on it, and the danger that posed to them.

A blast of heat singed his head, pulling out of his thoughts. He turned, drawing his own blaster. Elena had finally finished the man she'd been fighting, having removed an arm with her saber before pushing him towards the edge. The stormtrooper had, in a last ditch effort, drawn his blaster, squeezing of a shot at Semreh before hitting the hard pavement below.

Elena turned, worry on her face. She looked him over, saw he wasn't hurt, then stumbled as the tank jerked under their feet, involuntarily bucking from the cannon blasts fired from the third tank. Semreh looked around and saw Fless, still at the controls of their speeder, slowing down until he was just within jumping distance.

"Go!" Semreh yelled, yanking the detonator off the grenade in his hand. She obeyed, taking two steps then, making an outstretched jump for the speeder. She caught it, her legs rattling against the ground as Lena and Hanna pulled her up.

Semreh took the hand holding the grenade and shoved it into the molten hole. He was about to release it when he felt something catch his fist. He looked down and saw a helmeted head staring up at him with an eyeless visor. The clone pilot, deciding he wasn't going down alone, had grabbed Semreh's hand, forcing him to hold onto the ticking grenade. Semreh pulled desperately, fear gripping his chest as he felt the pulsing energy in the grenade, but the clone held on fiercely.

Semreh then made one finally pull, and, with a decisive jerk, gritted his teeth and pulled both his and the clone's hand into the white hot metal side of the hole he'd made. They both gave yelps of pain, and the clone let go, even as Semreh dropped the grenade from his injured hand and turned, leaping through the air just as it went off, propelling him forward with easily triple the force he'd intended.

He spun once, twice, three times, somersaulting like a wild, untrained gymnast. He glimpsed Fless beneath him, staring opened mouthed at him as he flew up and over his target.

"_This is it."_ He thought helplessly. "_I'm going to die, hitting the pavement. After all this…"_ He felt his arc fall, and bend towards the ground. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable impact.

There was an impact, and it certainly didn't feel good to Semreh, but it also didn't feel lethal. Cracking an eye with a groan, Semreh looked around. He was in the crowded Flash speeder with Elena, Halber, and the rest of them.

"You are so lucky I'm a good driver." Fless said from the front seat, eyes still carefully watching the road.

"I hope you have a few good ideas." Tara exclaimed, her voice rising in panic. "Because there's another tank on our tail!"

They all turned, and sure enough, there was the final fighter tank plowing through the smoke and remains of the other tank. Its own cannons must have disintegrated the fighter tank Semreh had disabled, and it was hot on their trails. Semreh leaned back, sighing and closing his eyes.

"What are you doing!?" Sten yelled from the passenger seat.

"Give me a second." He murmured, thinking, meditating. "Trying to figure out a way out of this."

There was a roar and the Flash speeder was twisting and dodging again, trying to let the bolts pass them rather than burn into their thin hull. One blast could kill them all and, although moving too quickly to be hit by one of the heavy proton torpedoes, even Fless was coming uncomfortably to close to the laser blasts.

One of said blasts finally hit them, striking the right r`epulsor engine and burning it off. Fless cursed and the whole speeder cried out as it dipped to the right. Lena, sitting on the right edge of the speeder, was grabbed by Hanna and pulled suddenly out of the way as the speeder's right side began ramming into the buildings, even as Fless tried to wrestle it away.

Sten wordlessly got out of the passenger seat and leaned the lower half of his body out of the speeder, bracing his legs between it and the wall they were scraping against. With a roar, he pushed off, knocking the speeder away from the wall, but his legs were out of it now. For a moment, he seemed to be running besides the speeder, his feet barely touching the ground. Then, he pulled himself back up and into his seat.

The tank was on them now, and the pilot was obviously savoring the kill. Its cannons lowered, targeting the open canopy where they were all seated. One torpedo was all it would take.

Then, Semreh had an idea.

"Cut the engines." He ordered sharply.

"Wha-" Fless protested, but Semreh had already reached forward and, with a simple push of the Force, turned off the Flash speeder. For a second, it felt as though they were silently flying through the air.

Then they dropped, hitting the cobblestone road. Sparks flew as their speeder's bottom was slid along the ground. Behind them, the tank had fired, but the sudden drop caused its shots to go over their heads, barely missing them.

Without a glance or even change of expression from his determined face, Semreh sent a pulse through the Force to his fellow padawans and grabbed his lighsaber with his uninjured left hand. As one, Elena, Halber, Lena, and Hanna each ignited their lightsabers alongside Semreh. Wondrous lights of blue, green and yellow rose up, held high in the air even as Semreh ordered them all to get down.

Their Flash speeder, now at a significantly lower altitude (that is, no altitude) was quickly slowing as a result of the friction exerted on it by the ground. The tank, still hovering a foot or two or three above the ground, caught up to them quickly, far too quickly for the bewildered pilot to brake. It shot forward, its front rising up and over the Flash speeder, taking said speeders rear mounted cannon with it. However, the passengers, all of which had ducked down into their seats, were unharmed as the bottom of the tank flew mere feet above their heads.

The same could not be said for the bottom of the speeder. Its repulsorlifts were no longer pushing off the ground. Rather, they were pushing the tank up and over the speeder and, more importantly, over its passengers. Unfortunately for it and its pilots, it was not high enough to avoid their lightsabers.

One lighsaberslashing through the unarmored bottom of a tank, where its lifts were located, was bad and sure to cause bantha's worth of damage. Two was worse, and three was an almost definite kill. However, all five of the padawan's lightsabers had cut through the bottom, like a set of spikes, and gutted its bottom. The tank continued for a few yards, wobbled, and then fell with a loud screech of metal and dust.

Silence. Then, Semreh heaved a loud sigh of relief.

"THAT WAS AWESOME!" Elena yelled, pumping the air with her fist and grabbing a shaken Halber by the shoulder. She was practically dancing and high-fived an equally jubilant Tara.

"Let's get out of here." Halber murmured to Fless.

"Yeah." Fless agreed, equally shaken, already revving up their damaged speeder. "We-We should catch up to the rest of the convoy."

The Flash speeder rose with a small whir, then, still listing to the right, sped around the tank, and limped the street.

**_I thought this turned out well. Pretty much listened to chase scene music throught the whole thing. Anyways, please read and review._**


	55. Chapter 55 Pawn Takes Queen

**_Chapter 55_**

**_Please enjoy. Also, please refiew, particurally the fight scene I wrote here. I need feedback on it before writing the next chapter._**

Seth watched as the stormtroopers charged the palace gates, worry starting to creep into him. What if he had made a mistake? What if those speeders from before had been the actual Queen and Seth had miscalculated?

"_No_." He thought to himself. "_I'm sure. And either way, if the Queen doesn't come from these gates, I'm dead."_

Seth continued his silent vigil atop the, waiting patiently for his prey.

* * *

Queen Apailana was not the youngest Queen ever elected. In fact, she was about the same age the former Queen Amidala had been when she'd faced her crisis with the Trade Federation. Of course, then there had still been a sense of justice in the world; of equality and democracy. Now, the Empire ruled.

Apailana kept going over the sequence of events in her head. Where had she gone wrong? Throughout the past couple of months, she had followed her conscious. She'd subtly resisted the new order, rescued waylaid Jedi wherever she could, and kept her people safe and free despite the Empire's continued incursions on Naboo sovereignty.

In the end, was it all futile? Did her resistance up till now mean nothing? Would a better ruler have made the cold decision to abandon the Jedi who had saved Naboo countless times? And the principles of the Republic…Would a better ruler have abandoned them in these turbulent times?

Suddenly, the Apailana felt tears well in her eyes. Silly really, to be crying now, before Naboo has even fallen. Especially since she'd had so long to prepare. It wasn't as if there was any lost hope. Apailana realized there had never been any. From the moment she decided to fight the Empire, that fight had been a lost cause.

From the beginning, the Apailana knew, deep down in her gut, that the Empire would discover her small tokens of resistance and crush it. From the beginning, she knew the RSF, though excellently trained, was no match for the battle hardened and well organized clone troopers. No matter what precautions they took, in the end the Empire merely needed to march in and destroy them. No matter how hard her soldiers fought, there were too few. In the end, Naboo's freedom had simply been the result of the Emperor's decision to not strike back. They had been at his mercy for months.

Sighing, the Apailana wiped her eyes, careful to not disturb the makeup covering her face. It was too early to despair. Whatever her mistakes, she had a chance to redeem them here. If she and the rest of the Jedi could escape, they could use her political authority and the truth of what happened today to rally thousands of outraged systems against the Empire. Naboo's cause would survive in the spirit of their rebellions and, someday, they would be free.

"Your majesty." Voolif Monn said, appearing suddenly behind her. "The Decoy team is away. It is time."

She turned to the Shistavanen Jedi and nodded. Her face was now a mask of serenity. The Queen was back again. She drew an elegant blaster from a nearby table, checking the power pack. When she was sure it was powered and ready, she followed the master to where the Jedi were gathering. Sha Koon was in the lead, her bright yellow saber a beacon against the night outside.

"Are you ready milady?" She asked respectfully, her hand already on the door. Outside, the sound of blasterfire was increasing as the stormtroopers closed in on the palace grounds. The RSF troopers had fallen back to their final defensive position; a circle of walls around the remains of the particle cannon, blocking the palace gates.

The Queen readied herself, getting in the center of a phalanx of her Jedi protectors. Glynn-Beti and her padawan took the rear, faces grimly focused on the enemies swarming outside. Sha Koon stood to at the head of the column, flanked by Master Bant and Monn. To her right, a bald Jedi was conversing with an Ithorian master, and to her left, another young Jedi with stark blond hair was helping a wounded Arkanian Jedi to his feet. They were all there to protect her. Everything was riding on this escape.

"I'm prepared." She answered, drawing herself up regally. "Let us go meet the Empire."

Sha Koon nodded, and pushed open the doors with a burst of the Force. The street, lit up by fires set by stormtroopers, was filled with passing blaster bolts. The Jedi's blades intercepted everyone one of them as they jogged, almost at a leisurely pace, across the plaza, to freedom.

* * *

Gavin had been in bad situations before. Given his life choices, it was likely he would be in bad situations again. Of course, that was assuming he survived this particular situation. Trapped beneath his own Flash speeder, its weight bearing down on what he assumed was a crack rib. Besides him, Hollis was barely conscious, but trying to push the speeder off him.

"Ish to heasy." He said in a slurred voice. He'd smashed his head against the control panel of the speeder when they'd been hit and his mouth was full of blood. "But thesh repulsher shtil worksh."

"All we need to do is flip it over." Gavin finished, struggling even harder now, but to no avail. It was just too heavy. Then, there was a commotion to Gavin's right. He twisted his head to look, and saw a line of lightsabers advancing across the battlefield, carving a path through the line of stormtroopers.

Gavin's head was injured, but they looked like blurs to him, darting everywhere at once, their sabers deflecting every bolt back the way it came. In the middle, there was a cluster of the Queen's handmaidens, their blasters drawn and firing, surrounding the Queen herself. Gavin's Queen.

With a roar, Gavin pushed one last time, determined to help the Queen in her desperate flight for safety. Hollis joined him, throwing his shoulder into it like a bull, his voice gurgling as he yelled through the blood in his mouth. For a moment, the speeder turned, standing on its side and almost crushing Gavin, but then it finished its turn and was finally upright.

Gavin pushed himself to his feet, already drawing a pistol from his belt. "Get this speeder moving." He ordered Hollis. "Save the Queen!"

* * *

Seth saw it. His target. He no longer thought of the Queen as a she, or even as a person. In his mind, she was already dead, and he was free. All he needed to do was squeeze the trigger.

Using the Force, Seth enveloped himself in a cloak of nothingness, disguising his presence in the Force. None of the Jedi would know, until it was too late, that the assassin aiming a blaster rifle at the Queen was a master of the Force. Sinking deep into it, he allowed the Force to guide his actions, waiting for the moment where it told him to strike, waiting for the moment where he had a clear shot, and each of the Jedi below was busy fending off other attacks from the troopers trying to breach their line.

He cradled her head in the sights of the rifle, as if he was her gentle lover, guiding her to death. At that moment, he was closer to her then anyone in her life had ever been.

There it was. A moment as brief and as long as a supernova. He fired.

The kill was instant. She turned at the last moment, no doubt drawn by the green light flaring in the outskirts of her vision. Seth saw several of the Jedi turn their heads in the blast, and the Kel Dor master leading them managed to sprint forward, screaming a horrified, "No!", but she was too late.

* * *

The green light burned through Apailana's skull instantly. It wasn't like in the holobooks, where the dead didn't feel a thing. For several moments, as Apailana felt her knees give way beneath her, she was in the greatest agony of her life. She supposed that everyone's death was different; that everyone saw something different. As Apailana fell to her knees, her blaster fell from nerveless fingers, and her white makeup was now obscured by an organic looking blotch of blood that was dripping from her forehead.

She had time to think lightly, "I've been shot," then slipped into darkness. She was only fourteen.

* * *

Seth pulled his rifle up, watching as the Queen's limp body stumbled, as if it were going to continue running, then fell. She was dead. Very dead. Around her, the bewildered Jedi turned to meet their new opponent. Seth allowed them to feel him in the Force now. There was no reason to hide now. Only a Force sensitive, only someone who has mastered it, could have made that shot…and they knew it.

Sabers ignited, the Kel Dor Jedi and the Mon Calamari one made Force propelled leaps, landing on the balcony railings, there sabers raised for the kill. Seth dropped his rifle, slipping betweenthem as their blades fell. He leapt, twisting in mid air between them and lashing out with his arms, striking them with powerful fists. Both Jedi masters flew away, their surprised faces gaping in alarm at his strength.

Seth continued his fall, timing it so when a young Jedi, obviously a padawan, with stubby horns on his head was charging towards him, Seth simply landed, both feet crashing into his chest and pinning him to the floor. He felt the sheer force of his landing crush the young being's chest cavity and sternum with a sickening squelch. He rolled over, his mouth a stream of blood as he retched and vomited.

To his right, Seth felt a rage fill the Force. He turned just in time to see a blue blade held by a Bothan Jedi singing towards his face. He ducked, caught the Bothan's wrist in a vice like grip and, with his other hand, punched up with enough force to bend her entire elbow up, breaking it with a series of dull crackles. The Bothan fell, clutching her arm. Seth turned, leaving her for the stormtroopers.

Other Jedi were being flanked and killed now. Seth saw an Ithorian fall underneath a hail of blaster bolts while another Arkanian Jedi looked on in horror before he too fell. At the palace gates, two Jedi, both disoriented and wounded humans were hauled to their feet and executed by a squad of Palpatine's white faced enforcers.

Seth could see they were losing focus, too surprised by the changes in circumstances to coordinate their attacks. Truly, the Jedi Order had lost something in the Clone Wars. Still, there were three that remained, and they all converged on Seth now; the Mon Calamari, her face calm, but filled with sorrow; the Shistavanen Jedi, who was all snarling teeth and bristled hair; and the Kel Dor Jedi, the calmest presence in the Force, but somehow also the most dangerous.

They all lunged at him, the Mon Calamari leaping high into the air while the other two barreled towards him. Seth stepped forward, letting the Mon Calamari land behind him. He engaged the other two quickly, confident that he could fight two Jedi Masters at once.

Flipping, he aimed a double legged kick at the Shistavanen Jedi's chest. The Jedi raised a palm, aiming a burst of the Force at Seth. He felt the air around him contract into a fist, squeezing his waist and hurling him across the street.

Seth landed on his hands, turning his fall into an elegant roll that brought him up just in time to grab the falling hilt of the attacking Mon Calamari. He squeezed, trying to simply crush her webbed hands between his fingers and her own hilt. The Jedi's fish eyes widened, and she yelped in pain.

He lashed out with his other hand, aiming a lethal strike that would penetrate those bulbous eyes and hit her sensitive brain behind them, but the Jedi raised her own hand. She didn't block, but rather, redirected the strike up and away from her, so his attack passed over her right shoulder. Swinging her knees up, she crunched her body into a ball and placed her webbed feet against Seth's stomach. She kicked off; breaking Seth's grip and throwing him back even as she flipped through the air.

Seth recovered and shook himself, but was surprised when he felt the air behind him bunch into a fist and throw him across the ground. He spun, crouching like an animal as the Shistavanen Jedi rushed him, his green saber flashing everywhere at once. Seth avoided it, careful to keep his body balanced and close.

The Shistavanen overstepped once, lunging too far and exposing too much of his undefended side. Serh ducked beneath his blade and tackled him, pinning the wolf like Jedi to the ground. He had his left hand on the lightsaber now, and held it to the ground with his left hand while his right found the Jedi's throat. All it would take was one good squeeze, and the Jedi would die.

He found it, savoring the kill for only a moment, before he began squeezing. Then, he fell back, his stomach twisting with suprise and pain. The Shistavanen had lashed out at him, raking his face with his clawed hands and leaving a long, deep gash along his metal helmet, opening it up from the upper right corner, to the lower left jaw. The Jedi followed the slash with a kick to the stomach that sent Seth sliding back…right into the waiting yellow blade of the Kel Dor.

Sensing this in the Force, Seth bent backwards, his back bending like a bow as he flipped backwards and over the fiery yellow blade. As he passed, he reached out with his left hand, grabbing the Kel Dor's arm as he did and bending it back into a strict arm bar. The Kel Dor didn't struggle. She just dropped her lightsaber and nodded at the Shistavanen Jedi, who nodded back.

At first, Seth didn't realize what was happening. The Force flashed with warning, but he could see all three of his adversaries, and none of them were in any position to attack him. Not with his hostage. He only understood seconds later, when the wolf like Jedi lunged forward, his saber held horizontally so it would burn through both his comrade and Seth in one blow.

Desperately, Seth reached out with the Force, calling the Jedi's fallen lightsaber to his free hand. He ignited it and tried to intercept the Shistavanen's green saber with that, but the Kel Dor caught his hand in her hand, holding it in place so he couldn't defend or move away. A suicide attack.

Seth pulled his arm bar up, leveraging it up so her elbow bone began to shift painfully beneath her. It must have been agonizing, but the Jedi did nothing; simply waiting for her fellow Jedi's attack to kill them both.

Seeing no way out, Seth jumped straight up into the air, carrying the Kel Dor master with him at least twenty feet into the air. The master bent forward in mid air and kicking down at a dumbstruck Seth. She used his own arm bar to turn him around and around, then hurled him to the ground with a powerful kick. Using the force of that kick, she nimbly flipped away. Seth, propelled by her Force powered kick, hurtled to the ground, impacting with enough force to shift and crack stone beneath him.

Seth, still clutching the Kel Dor's lightsaber, got to his feet. Across the way, the Jedi were reforming, gathering together in a tight line to battle him. Presenting a united front. The Kel Dor raised a four fingered hand, pointing a single crooked figure at him.

"Are you mad?" Seth asked, his breathes coming short and shallow. He was getting tired.

"No." She replied calmly. "But I sense you are."

As she pointed, the Force around her surged, and debris rose from the battlefield around her. Like jagged daggers, they flew forward, fired like bullets from a gun called the Force. They struck Seth hard. Jagged metal burned into his skin and heavy displaced bricks from the cobblestone street crushing what remained of his stormtrooper armor. He fell back, the wave of the Force throwing him backwards and pinning him up against the wall.

The storm of Force power stopped, and Seth looked up just in time to see the Shistavanen Jedi flying towards him, a howl rippling from his throat. He was going to strike, ambushing Seth while he was distracted. But he wasn't distracted. His green saber was ignited, belching green flame and falling towards him. But Seth had a saber too.

Seth raised his captured lightsaber, catching the green saber on the yellow blade of the Kel Dor's. They spat sparks like broken circuits, and the Shistavanen bore down with sheer canine strength, till it was only an inch from his throat.

The wolf faced Shistavanen leaned forward, pressing him down till he was on his back, fending off the snarling Jedi. His canine teeth were snapping and biting towards Seth's throat, resorting to a feral savagery in his attempts to kill the assassin. Finally, the teeth found his throat and sunk in, trying to rip out the all important jugular vein.

Seth grabbed the Shistavanen's hand, grabbing his saber as well. He pushed up with both his saber and the Jedi's, pushing them up to the enemy Jedi's throat till, like a pair of scissors, he clipped them together, severing the tip of the Jedi's hairy throat. The wolf like Jedi rolled off Seth, clutching his throat and wordlessly trying to howl. Seth stood above him, watching him die for a moment.

Then, he turned to the remaining two Jedi; the Mon Calamari, and the Kel Dor. The two of them were shaken, but reforming for attack. They came at him, carefully coordinating their attacks through the Force; but it didn't matter. Seth was feeling the Force now, and he knew what would happen even before it did.

Seth's body seemed to jerk, then disappear. Much to the surprise of the pair of charging Jedi, he appeared between them, his arms extended, the Force focusing the air on either side of him into a sledgehammer blow. He released it, launching the pair of Jedi in opposite directions like a pair of rag dolls. He leapt after the still unarmed Kel Dor, catching her mid-air and capturing her in a careful series of grabs and locks. The landed almost gently on the ground, the Kel Dor kneeling, facing away from her assailant.

She was squirming, trying to break Seth's grip on her, but couldn't for fear of him breaking several of her bones. Across the way, the Mon Calamari was shifting her grip on her lightsaber nervously, trying to get an angle from which she could rescue her comrade. Seth almost laughed. How naive.

With a smile, Seth reached down, and gripped the front of the Kel Dor mask. Her struggling redoubled futilely. Then, with the tiniest jerk, he ripped the mask off her face. Facing away from him, Seth couldn't see the Kel Dor's face as the oxygen poisoned and burned her. Looking across the way, the Mon Calamari's face was a mask of horror and sorrow.

Seth couldn't see it, but he knew enough about Kel Dor biochemistry to know what was happening. Her mouth would be working, even as she tried to shut her mouth to block the poisonous atmosphere. Her eyes, no longer protected by the goggles that had been part of her mask, were bleeding and burning. It would take quite a time for the poison to finally reach a part of her internal organs that would kill her. Till then, he would make the Mon Cal watch as her friend shriveled and withered like a leaf. It would be a painful and long process.

He looked up, and the Mon Cal Jedi was walking towards her, her face a calm sea of serenity. She was not angry…but very, very determined. By now, she no doubt realized that she could not possibly save either of her comrades, or even herself. Why she continued fighting, Seth would never understand. But as he outmaneuvered her again and again, forcing her back until she was trapped against the wall, he felt a grim satisfaction as each of his fists connected with her fleshy fish-like skin. When he finally strangled her broken and bleeding body, he felt more powerful than ever before.

* * *

Gavin watched in dumbstruck horror as the Queen's body took a few involuntary steps, then tumbled, steam rising from the burn in her head. He already knew she was dead. Besides him, Hollis whispered a horrified curse came out muffled from his broken jaw. He had already drawn his blaster, and was firing at the stormtroopers advancing on them, even as he screamed for Gavin to get into the upright speeder.

He numbly saw a flash of lightsabers and blaster bolts, and soon the Jedi who were supposed to be protecting the Queen were fighting another enemy, some unknown assailant who's moves looked like blurs.

Gavin's body took a step backwards, then another. Away from the Queen he was sworn to protect. Years of military training and constant combat kicked in, and Gavin jumped into the driver's seat of the speeder, still firing over his shoulder as the heavily damaged vehicle limped away.

Hollis, in the passenger seat, was cradling his jaw with one hand and fiddling with the com system with the other. As the speeder began to pull away from the stormtrooper's perimeter, they both began to relax. No doubt most of the remaining RSF units were either surrendering, or making a break for the outskirts. Most stormtroopers would be busy with them, letting Gavin and his old friend escape.

But to where? Their gambit to escape with the Queen had failed. The Decoy convoy may have made it to the hanger, but it was unlikely. Still, it was their best shot. The Empire's control was still limited to the palace area. The hanger, far from the actual battlefield, may still be under RSF control.

Gavin felt Hollis pull on his leather uniform's sleeve, jerking his thoughts back into the present. "Lishen to dish."

Gavin nodded, and picked up the small comlink headset Hollis was offering, putting it to his head.

_"-SF units_." An urgent voice Gavin recognized as Panaka's uttered in a commanding tone. _"The Empire is now in control of the Royal palace, in response to a rebel insurrection bent on assassinating the Queen. Enemy spies have infiltrated, and have given orders using false identification chips. Under emergency Code Beta oh-six-oh seven, I order all RSF units to stand down, and await further orders regarding RSF support of Imperial peace keeping forces."_

Gavin listened for a few more moments, waiting for more. However, the message only began to repeat, no doubt continuing on a loop over all RSF and emergency broadcast frequencies.

"This would explain our lack of reinforcements." Gavin murmured, carefully piloting his speeder down a series of back alleys and side streets in order to avoid Imperial patrols. "Panaka's orders no doubt interfered."

"Probubre." Hollis agreed, clicking the comlink off and returning it to the dashboard of the speeder. "Eiver way, we need ta go."

Gavin, still feeling numb as the reality of their situation sunk in, turned the speeder, and burned jets down the street, praying the Decoy team had survived.

* * *

Seth stood over the crumpled body of the Mon Calamari Jedi, using the heel of his foot to turn her body over, revealing the lightsaber that had fallen beneath her body as she'd died. With a derisive snort, he picked it up, and pocketed it in his belt, along with the rest of the sabers he'd collected that day. There were a lot to collect, but he only took the Kel Dor's, the Shistavanen's, and the Mon Cal's, leaving the rest for the stormtroopers.

Seth made sure he was hidden in one of the side streets before another squad came round, then went about the business healing his injuries, and removing much of the shattered stormtrooper armor. Before long, he was in his partially armored jumpsuit, his prison.

With a sigh, he picked up the comlink unit that had come with his helmet, listening to stormtrooper channels across the city. Too his surprise, he heard several squads reporting Jedi escaping on speeders. The decoys.

Seth groaned loudly. His work was never done. Making sure his belt was securely fashioned with its new weight, Seth made a Force propelled leap onto the nearby rooftops, and began running across them, his next targets already in his sights.

**_Next Chapter coming soon. Please give me some feedback, particurally on the fight scene. Fight scenes are an area I struggle in, and I am trying to correect that. Too chaotic? Not enough description? The next chapter requires an important fight scene, so I'll wait unti I get enough feedback and advice before continuing, so I can correct any mistakes before writing it._**


	56. Chapter 56 Rescue?

**_Chapter 56 Please, please please review!_**

Semreh grimaced as Elena roughly griped his injured hand, wrapping it tightly with a proper bandage. On the other side of him, Tara sat, her bare knees pulled up tight against her chest. She'd been quiet for much of their trip through Theed, keeping to herself. Semreh noticed she was shaking slightly.

"_She must be cold_." He thought, looking at black her shorts and shirt. Naboo had a temperate climate, but with the wind whipping past the speeder in the night air, it could get cold fast. Semreh pulled his hand from Elena, insisting he was fine, and began shrugging his jacket off. It was difficult with his hand, but finally he offered it to Tara.

"If you're going to insist on going on these missions," He murmured, "You should at least dress warmly."

She smiled, but pushed the jacket back. "I'm not that cold." She said, looking off into the black sky above them. "I just…There were so many dead." Semreh saw her shoulders slump, her eyes downcast.

He realized she was feeling the after affects of the battle through the Force, and with her untrained power, it was no surprise she was physically reacting to it. The fact was that Semreh barely even noticed tremors in the Force like that. Not anymore. During the Clone Wars, trying to hear each little tremor of death in the Force would have been like trying to hear a mouse in a thunderstorm.

"_Perhaps that's why we could not see our own destruction coming_." He mused silently. Semreh pulled his own jacket back on, still watching her. There was really nothing he could do. If she was chilled, it was because of the Force. Still, there was a very haunted look in her eyes, as if she was looking at a familiar, but still horrifying sight.

Semreh, having grown up in the cloistered and traditional Jedi Temple, was not the most socially learned person. The fact was, Sermreh didn't quite know what to do. Hesitantly, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close as she continued shaking. Sitting across from him, Elena and Halber exchanged glances, and grinned. Semreh scowled at them, but kept holding Tara.

"We're one kilometer from the hanger." Fless called from the front of the speeder. "Still don't see the other two speeders."

Semreh looked down at him, worried. The fact that they couldn't see the speeders was not surprising. They'd pulled far ahead during their small fight against the tank. However, there was safety in numbers. The forward two speeders, containing most of Bravo Squadron, could have been useful in fighting their way out.

"Are we clear?" He asked.

"Mostly." Sten answered, looking up from the speeder's comlink. "A few stormtrooper units have converged on us, but we're are certainly in the cl-"

Ahead of their speeder, there was a flash of light, then an enormous explosion. It seemed to rock the very foundations of the city and Semreh felt the speeder bump upwards as the ground below heaved up into it. Fless yelled, throwing the speeder into a desperate turn, one that dodged the piles of rubble falling, but threw the nose of their speeder into a nearby building, leaving it crushed and broken beyond repair.

Everyone in the speeder jerked, but none flew from their seats. After all, if you're gonna go into a battle, the least you could do was wear your seatbelt. The belt however, did not prevent their heads from flying forward and smashing on whatever hard metallic devices happened to be in front of them.

Semreh raised his head with a groan, already reaching for the blaster thrust into his belt. Whoever had set off the charges had intended to stop their speeder, not destroy it. Obviously, they believed they had enough firepower to take them down…and they were probably right.

From the front, Fless and Sten were the first to recover. Drawing a pair of slugthrowers from the inside of their black suit jackets, they jumped out, already firing from cover at the stormtroopers advancing on them. While normal slugthrowers would have been ineffective against the stormtrooper's armor, every bullet of theirs seemed to strike the black areas between the armor.

"Stay down!" Fless yelled, his pistol barking over the simultaneous groans of the passengers. Semreh, already firing his own blaster at the stormtroopers on the rooftops above. They obviously had been waiting in ambush for quite a while, and had a wide variety of heavy weapons and prepared fortified positions from which to fire on them from.

Semreh stumbled out of the speeder, taking cover behind it like the rest of his friends. Elena and the rest of the Jedi had ignited their sabers while the rest of them fired with everything they had. Dabe was aiming precision blasts from a long barreled pistol along with Semreh and the Chasers. Tara, still unarmed, was clutching her ears, trying to block out the sounds of battle. Her Force powers could have come in handy, especially with all the rubble lying around, but she didn't have the experience to remain calm under fire like this.

There was a pulse through the Force, and Semreh turned instinctively, his lightsaber snapping to life in his hand and immediately flashing as another volley of blaster bolts flew down the street. A new squad had arrived, outflanking them and pouring fire into their huddled group. Semreh stood at the end of the line of his friends; batting back bolts of energy even as his own blaster fired on the advancing troopers.

"We've been flanked." He shouted calmly, backing up steadily. "We've got to move."

"Where!?" Halber yelled, dropping his lightsaber for his Lasersplicer repeater. "Our backs are to the wall."

Semreh looked around. Behind them, there was only a building, one without any access or any place to flee. In front of them, there was an unbroken wall of buildings, where stormtroopers were scattered, firing on them. To their right was a pile of rubble, and more troopers. To their left, troopers. And for once, Semreh didn't know what to do.

Then, all the firing stopped. Semreh poked his head out from behind the speeder, and saw each of the troopers, almost at once, lower their blasters. To his right, Elena murmured something about attacking now, but Halber waved her comment away, looking at Semreh expectantly. He shook his head, and the Jedi all lowered their weapons. The Chasers took a little more convincing.

"Drop them." Semreh ordered them sharply. "Even if we wanted to, we couldn't escape." Turning back to the lines of stormtroopers, he grimly looked them over. "We'll have to negotiate."

Elena snorted derisively and let her lightsaber rise slightly, making ready for the inevitable slaughter. Halber, still looking uncertain, but giving off a calming vibe in the Force stood shoulder to shoulder with her, his heavy repeater easily within reach. The Chasers lowered their weapons as well, but kept them tight in their grips.

Ahead of Semreh, one of the clone troopers stepped forward, removing his helmet. Semreh knew that, among clones, that was a sign of respect. "Jedi, I have received special orders to hold my fire and hold you here until an agent arrives to process you."

"Process us?" Tarra murmured, standing up next to Semreh.

"Execution." Fless explained quietly. "But I wonder who this agent is?"

"Vader?" Semreh murmured, looking at the two intelligence officers. They both shrugged uncertainly.

"There's very little intel on him." Sten explained in his deep baritone voice. "It could also be an Inquisitor."

"Maybe." Semreh thought aloud, "If they knew they were dealing with Jedi, they would certainly send an Inquisitor."

The Inquisitorious was the result of the Empire's new anti-Jedi policy. Ironically consisting largely of Force sensitives, Fless's sources claimed they were based on Coruscant, and had hunted down many of the escaped Jedi from the Temple. They were also in charge of hunting down resistance groups. The chief Coruscanti resistance cell, the Whiplash, had had dealings with them before. It was from the Whiplash that Fless had gotten most of his information.

"Very well." Semreh called to the Clone Commander. Looking around at the many troopers, all of them from the elite 501st, he yelled, "Nobody get twitchy. I don't want to get fried on accident."

Stepping out from the cover of the speeder, Semreh approached the commander, standing at a calm parade stance in front of him. The commander returned the stance, warily eyeing him from behind a very scarred face. Scarred face…

"I know you." Semreh exclaimed in sudden recognition.

"Do you now?" The clone said, still suspicious.

"Yeah." Semreh claimed, eagerly raising the sleeve of his jacket. On the tunic beneath, there was a small patch showing a patch sewn into his tunic. It was a small patch depicting a dagger piercing a super battle droids chest there, amongst several others patches. They were insignias from the various regiments he'd served with.

"I was on Teyr." Semreh explained, pointing out the patch with the dagger.

"Really?" The Clone Commander said, obviously surprised to find his surrounded enemy in such a cordial mood. "Under General K'Kruhk?"

"My master and I both." Semreh said. "Is this the 416th Star Corps then?"

The clone shook his head. "Battalion took heavy casualties on Teyr, so we were formed into a special support group for Master Windu on Haruun Kal. Took casualties there too." The commander's shoulder slumped, as if it were all a bad memory. "Anyways, we were folded into the 501st after that. Not a lot of us left."

"I know how you feel." Semreh murmured a little darkly, looking back at his friends, huddled behind the speeder.

"Fortunes of war." The clone offered sympathetically.

"Right." Semreh agreed. "CRC-09/571 still around?"

Now the clone looked very, very surprised. "You have a good memory. Not many mongrel officers bother to learn our designations."

"I try to remember the men I served with." Semreh said good-naturedly. "Puts things into perspective. Besides, that was before nicknames."

"He was killed on Haruun Kal." The commander blurted out. "Rebel's betrayed us, killed him and a lot of our men."

"I'm sorry." Semreh whispered respectfully, his voice laced with sympathy. "I remember him. He was a good soldier."

"That's all the compliment we need."

Semreh opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped as the commanders comlink beeped, drawing his attention. The commander tapped a finger to his head, listening to his helmets comlink rather than letting him here. Semreh did not take offense. He would have done the same thing.

"Agent coming to speak to you." The Commander said, stepping back from him. Semreh followed suit. If he didn't like what the agent said, the truce would be over. They both knew that.

"For what it's worth," the Commander yelled hesitantly back. "I won't take any chances against you."

Semreh laughed. It was as close to a compliment he'd ever heard a clone trooper make to an enemy. Returning to the speeder, Semreh leaned against it casually. No point in looking as stressed as he really was. No, a Jedi was supposed to be calm, cool, and collected. And Semreh had always been a very good Jedi.

So why was his heart battering against his chest like this. He definitely had a very, very bad feeling about all this, but when he reached out with the Force, it was like feeling blindly around a dark room. He thought he knew what he would feel, but every second held the chance of a nasty surprise.

In this case, he had to distinct feelings of what the near future would hold. One, he felt he would not die. He was almost one hundred percent sure about that. As for the rest of his friends, he could not be sure. Two, he knew that help was coming. Again, it was only a vague sense of security, and he didn't know whether or not said help would be successful, or even whether it would get there on time. He just knew it was coming. The problem was, despite these 'good' feelings, they did nothing to ease his concern.

Then, there was a burst of the Force, and any lingering feelings he got through the Force were washed away with a sudden overwhelming sense of…Well, Semreh couldn't describe it. Fear. Sorrow. Pain. It felt like a dual personality, one steeped in the dark side, the other steeped in madness.

Semreh suddenly felt as if he was having an out of body experience. He turned slowly, looking up towards one the roofs to his left. And there he was. A tall figure. It was clearly human or at least near human. It was clad in a black jumpsuit that clung loosely to its body. The jumpsuit itself was covered in pieces of durasteel armor on several points of the body. But all of this was not what drew Semreh's eye.

The man wore a mask. It was a deep coppery color and it seemed to reflect the light from the stars and fires burning around Theed. The mask was shaped like a distorted crescent moon. It covered the lower half of its face, then rose up in a curving fashion, covering where its nose and its right eye would be. The area left unmasked, the left eye and the skin around it, was pale in the firelight of Theed.

The man, who Semreh guessed was the agent, leapt the full forty feet down to the center of the space between the stormtroopers and the downed speeder, clearly waiting. Semreh sighed and slid back over the speeder. He felt Tara following him for some unexplainable reason. The agent waited patiently until Semreh arrived, standing at ease before him. They looked each other over for a few moments, then the agent spoke.

"As I'm sure you have already realized, the Empire isn't in the business of taking Jedi prisoner." The agent said calmly, despite the powerful stirring of feelings behind his mask. "I trust you realize that."

"Yet, you stand here." Semreh shot back.

The man laughed, cold and pitiless. "I am hardly a Jedi."

"Yet I sense you are trained."

"I was, but not as a Jedi. Or a Sith"

"Ah," Semreh said, suddenly understanding. "You are of a different order."

"Give the little boy a prize." The agent chuckled darkly. "Yes, I was Matukai. I'm sure the high and mighty Jedi don't teach their children about us."

"Sorry, we've been a little busy the past hundred years." Semreh said, his voice tinged with anger. "Fighting the Sith."

"And turning to the dark side yourselves." The agent shot back. "And from what I've seen of your masters today, it has done little good."

Semreh jerked back as if punched. "You saw through our deception." He said tonelessly, his face a mask of controlled emotion.

"It was clumsy at best." The agent answered mockingly. "The Queen and your masters are dead. And you will soon follow."

"So why call a truce?" Tara whispered from behind Semreh. The agent looked around Semreh, his eye resting on her for a moment. Semreh felt Tara take an involuntary step backwards. Semreh sensed the assassin's cool interest.

"Because I want to know who I'm killing." He murmured. "You are not a Jedi. I can sense your lack of training."

Tara shrunk back even farther, her fear filling the Force. Semreh reached out to her, but she pulled away from him, placing walls around her mind with uncontrolled emotion. He couldn't get to her, and he could already feel the Force beginning to quiver without restraint. Tara was losing control. Semreh reached out with the Force, helping Tara to control and channel the Force away, siphoning it off. Then, Semreh, while wrapped up in that much power, felt the Force surge and warn him.

"Well," Semreh said with finality, grabbing Tara's shoulder and steering her back towards the speeder. "If you have nothing else to say, we're kind of busy."

"My name is Seth." The agent said suddenly, taking a step forward. "If you happen to escape, remember that."

"What's your number? I'll put you on speed dial." Semreh was losing patience now, but had a feeling that going backwards was a very good idea. Something in the Force told him.

"Jedi arrogance!" Sith yelled, drawing a lightsaber from his belt. "I will teach you too mock me!"

Semreh turned quickly. And suddenly, he was no longer Semreh. He was no longer a Jedi. And suddenly, he was no longer in control of his own movements. Without thinking, he raised his hand, electricity already charging through his arm. It spiraled out, a bright green light stretching out towards Seth. Semreh sensed the assassin's surprise as the electricity struck his chest, throwing the man backwards.

At that moment, there was a whoosh of air and the sound of grinding metal. Suddenly, Semreh's vision was filled with the yellow hull of the _Arrow_. It landed (well, perhaps landed wasn't the word. Crashed through a series of buildings to a grinding halt was better) just a few meters in front of Semreh and Tara. Seth, who had been blasted in the way of the ship by Semreh's Lightning, had been thrown across the street, landing Force knows where.

The curved hull of the _Arrow_ turned, its bottom still scraping along the ground. Its boomerang shaped hull swung round, sweeping the buildings around them away. The stormtroopers atop the roofs went diving for cover as the _Arrow_ continued to spin uncontrollably, its massive hull sweeping a fifty yard circle of rubble and destruction in every direction before coming to a shuttering halt, its rear facing ramp miraculously facing the downed speeder and the remaining Jedi.

The ramp lowered in front of Semreh, gradually falling to the cobblestone street. Inside, Scout stood, her hands on her shoulder, Jedi robes and tunic clean, but worn. She had her lightsaber in her hand, a sky blue beam of energy and was grinning widely.

"Well, that was an interesting entrance." Semreh said, dusting himself off as he got to his feet.

"I thought you'd need some help."

She walked off the ship, her head scanning back and forth. Behind him, Semreh heard the Chasers and Jedi beginning to sprint for the ramp, even as the stormtroopers began pouring fire onto them. The _Arrow's_ shields absorbed most of the fire, but there was no point in risking damage. Semreh pushed Tara forward, yelling for her to get onboard. She obliged, following Dabe up the ramp.

Hanna and Lena took up positions on either side of the ramp, their sabers ignited and ready. Smereh joined them. They needed to hold the ramp and prevent any Imperials from entering the ship. Down the street, a wave of stormtroopers was advancing, their blasters firing steadily. They stood in a line, Scout, Semreh, Hanna, and Lena, a wall of lightsabers protecting the ramp from fire.

"Lena!" Scout exclaimed in surprise, her saber flashing everywhere at once. "You're alive!"

"Escaped the Temple." She explained through gritted teeth, her lightsaber still spinning.

"Catch up later." Semreh growled, pushing Scout back up the ramp. "Get the ship moving."

Scout obliged, a new bounce in her step.

* * *

Once she got to the cockpit, Scout was dismayed to see Sonya struggling with the controls.

"The engine won't start." Sonya shouted angrily. The _Arrow_ was rocking now. The stormtroopers had learned and were starting to unload heavy repeating blaster cannons on them.

"I wonder why." Scout murmured drily. She joined Sonya, looking over the various instruments and other indicators of the ships condition. A couple seconds later, Sonya pointed at one of the instruments.

"Something's wrong with the left engine." She growled, handing Scout a hydrospanner. "Go fix it."

"Oh thanks." Scout said sarcastically. She picked up the hydrospanner. "What should I look for?"

"Something shooting sparks." Sonya shot back. "I don't know. Just try and fix it."

Scout left the cockpit in a huff. Her easy rescue mission was rapidly dissolving into a bigger problem than it was worth. As she went back, she saw the two men in dark suits standing in the hallway. One of them had shock red hair that was held back by a headband. Though he was dressed in a professional suit, its rumpled appearance reminded her of a sleazy con artist. The other was a tan mountain of a man with hands that could wrap around her body. His suit was immaculately taken care of.

"We'll cover you." The tan man said. "You fix the engine, and we'll keep you alive."

"Got it." Scout agreed. There was no time for introductions. They needed to lift off now, before the stormtroopers could reorganize. And whoever the scary men were in the suits...It would have to wait.

They headed for the ramp, stepping out carefully. The men in suits each had slugthrowers drawn and ready. Flanking her, they headed around the ship towards the left engine. Scout saw Semreh look over his shoulder at her, but then refocused his attention back at the stormtroopers advancing on them.

As Scout made her way to the engine, she saw the problem. A mass of wires had come loose at the bottom of the engine. They were caught on a piece of rubble, a medium sized rock caught in the engine. Scout grabbed onto it, yanking with all her might. She pulled once, twice, and it jerked free. Taking the hydrospanner, she went to work, connecting wires and loose bolts with enthusiasm powered by the blaster bolts sizzling the air around her.

"Could you hurry up?" Big Guy calmly said, dropping one stormtrooper with a shot to his neck. He loaded another clip into the pistol while Red Hair covered him.

"I'm trying." Scout ground out angrily. "That rock really busted things up."

"Well, try faster." Red Hair ordered. "Those troopers are moving in."

Scout hurried, but her hands were sweaty and the hydrospanner kept slipping. Her attention was so focused on the engine, she didn't notice the shouts of surprise coming from the men in suits. She was about halfway done, when it happened. She felt a hand wrap around her ankle, a crushing grip that bent made her bones creak loudly. She yelped as the hand pulled her out from under the engine and a second later, she was looking into a masked face, a single eye glaring at her.

The masked man raised a fist, slamming it down at her exposed face. She reacted instantly, almost gently guiding the fist away with the palm of her hand. Still, it impacted into the stone street an inch from her face, cracking it. Scout's other hand lashed up, catching the man under the chin with the palm of her hand. A second later, the side of a black shoe caught the man in the side of the head, sending him sprawling.

The Big Guy and Red Hair, though breathing heavily from the assassin's ambush, were far from beaten. They stood in front of Scout now, facing the assassin.

"We've got this punk." Big Guy said, sliding a pair of black leather gloves onto his fists. "Fix the engine."

"Yeah." Fless agreed, pulling a small metal cylinder out of his jacket. "This won't be a problem."

Scout nodded, throwing herself under the engine again. The sooner she fixed this thing, the sooner they could leave.

* * *

Fless had worked with Sten for most of his career as a Chaser. They'd done intelligence, assassination, and everything in between. They were excellently trained in hand to hand combat. All Shield Chasers were. Echani, Mandalorian…There were hundreds of different types to learn. However, Fless didn't recognize this man's movements. And as skilled as Fless and Sten were, he knew that would be a problem. And for that reason, he drew the small cylinder resting inside his jacket.

The cylinder, a standard Chaser Stun Baton, was the basic melee weapon for the Chasers. Small enough to keep on his person, but it extended to a one and a half foot steel weapon that spat enough electricity to bring down a full grown bantha. Drawing the weapon, he extended it to its full length, activating its charge.

Then, he and Sten attacked. They worked like a well oiled machine, a pair of fists in their own right. They'd worked out a basic strategy from years of fighting and sparring. Fless leapt straight for the assassin, aiming a swing at the assassin's masked head. The baton swung past, missing by a good foot. But that was okay, because Sten was waiting for his duck with a powerful upward kick.

The assassin must have known what was coming though, because he caught the kick with both hands. With a neat twist of the wrist, he tuned Sten's leg, flipping him over, trying to take Fless out with his own partner. Fless leapt straight into the air, bringing his legs up as high as they would go. Sten passed underneath him, and was sent sprawling by the throw.

As Fless landed, he pivoted on one leg, swinging it up and around at the assassins head. The assassin just leaned back slightly, chuckling as he gave ground. Fless unleashed a flurry of kicks and strikes with his stun baton. Finally, the assassin ducked low, before standing up again and placing a powerful kick into Fless's chest. He slid back several feet, before leaping back to his feet and throwing himself at the assassin and aiming a strike at the assassin. He leapt an impossible forty feet into the air, landing softly on the roof above.

"Why don't you just give up?" The assassin mocked, tilting his head down at Fless.

Fless grimaced in anger, and went for his sidearm. The assassin blurred for a second and then suddenly appeared next to Fless, his fist raised. Fless turned, swinging his stun stick, but was to slow. He would have been clobbered by the fist if Sten hadn't appeared besides him, catching the assassin's upper arm and holding back the strike.

Fless felt his stun stick make contact with the ribs of the assassin. He flinched and Sten's fist made contact with the side of his face, throwing him back.

"Thanks Sten." Fless said breathlessly.

"No problem."

A second later, they were hit by a hurricane of strikes and kicks.

* * *

Scout rolled out from under the engine. "All done."

She looked around for the two men in suits. They were locked in a fierce blindingly fast fight with the assassin. And from the looks of things, they were losing. Scout took a step forward to help, but then stopped. She turned. She felt a small hand on her shoulder, turning her towards the _Arrow_. But she saw no hand.

"Get in the ship!" Semreh yelled from then ramp. "Forget about them!"

Scout looked at him, surprised. Semreh didn't seem like the type of person to leave anybody behind. And Scout certainly wasn't going to abandon to people who had risked their lives protecting her. But now, Semreh was using the Force to guide her towards the ramp.

"I SAID GET IN THE SHIP NOW!" Semreh roared, and his voice, powered by the Force, seemed to shake the foundations of the street. "I'll make sure they get on."

Scout, realizing that Semreh realllllly wasn't in the mood for an argument, took one last look back then swung up the ships ramp. After all, Sonya would need help flying out of this mess.

* * *

Semreh was rapidly getting irritated at his situation. When he'd sensed that help would be coming, he'd assumed the situation would rapidly spin out of control. However, this was too much. Semreh didn't like chaos, except when it worked in his advantage. And this was not to his advantage.

In combat, the basic rule is to not get separated. Once separated, you'd get flanked. And as far as Semreh could tell, his fellow Jedi and Chasers were as good as flanked. Hanna and Lena had been drawn out from the ramp of the Arrow and were fighting for their lives. The Chasers to were exchanging quick blows with the assassin. Down the street, there was a squad of stromtroopers rushing to storm the ramp, now only defended by Semreh. To put it bluntly, there were too many people to save and to little time.

Semreh needed a miracle. And, he got one. A rock, one of the many pieces of rubble lying around the ground, zoomed past his ear, striking and shattering the back of the helmet of one of the stormtoopers that had pinned down Hanna and Lena. He turned and saw Tara, eyes bright and shining, readying another rock in her hand. He'd seen her use those, propelling them a respectable fraction of the speed of light.

"You go help the Chasers." She said, urgency replacing the shattered quiet from before. "I'll cover you with these." She waved a hand at a small pile of rocks that had begun collecting at her feet.

Semreh nodded. "Be careful." He warned, and leapt off to the Chasers. Igniting his lightsaber, he leapt into the fight, dropping from the sky like a falcon. He landed, saber slashing down in an arc that should have split the assassin from head to feet. But there was no contact; Just the sharp shock of surprise as the assassin spun away.

"Thanks kid." Fless groaned, getting to his feet. Semreh looked them both over. They were certainly the worst for wear. Fless's left hand looked badly damaged, and Sten was limping. They could still fight, but the assassin had given them a beating.

The assassin himself didn't look great. After all, he'd been hit by an entire starship. You don't just get up and walk after that, let alone fight. Semreh looked around. Tara was firing rocks at the stormtroopers with short flicks of her wrist, occasionally firing several at a time with powerful punching gestures. Lena and Hanna were retreating to her, running for their lives from the hordes of stormtroopers, even as several squads were trying to force their way onto the _Arrow's_ ramp.

Semreh looked back at the assassin. He should finish him now. He'd be a problem later. But something stayed his hand. Nodding at Sten and Fless to hurry for the ship, he turned back to the assassin, letting a determined grin crawl across his face.

"There'll be another time."

"Count on it." The assassin answered grimly.

Semreh turned and headed for the ramp, where his comrades were waiting. The Chasers had limped back inside, and now only Tara, Lena, and Hanna were left defending the ramp. They were under fire from at least forty clones, all of whom were pouring fire onto their position. Semreh joined them, creating a wall of lightsaber energy around the ramp.

"What are we waiting for?" He yelled over the fire. At that moment, Lena cried in pain, grasping her shoulder. Hanna paused for a second, then she too fell, her stomach opened by a blaster bolt. Semreh jumped to the side just in time to dodge one fired at him, then Force pulled Tara out of the way of a forth.

The Force told him what way to look, and he saw the assassin, holding a long barreled sniper rifle aimed straight for him. He shouldered the rifle and advanced, clearly intent on climbing up the ramp and slaughtering everybody inside. The squads were getting closer now, and Semreh sent a desperate warning through the Force to Scout, telling her to take off.

He knew she got it, but he didn't know whether she would listen. The troopers were firing again and Semreh, not the greatest duelist at the best of times, had rolled to the side with Tara and hid beneath the ramp. The blaster bolts could not reach them now, but they couldn't reach the _Arrow_.

Semreh drew his blaster pistol, returning fire as best he could, focusing on the flanks of the squad to keep them from circling around. It didn't work, and soon the stormtroopers almost had them surrounded. Then, there was a blurred figure rushing towards the _Arrow_. Semreh reacted instinctively, firing. It was Seth, but he dodged under the bolt, lunging for the ramp to the _Arrow_.

For a second, Semreh had a terrible vision of Seth leaping into the ship, killing everybody in various inhuman and grotesque ways. Then, he saw his body jerk and two knives seemed to sprout from his shoulder and chest. Seth landed heavily, still not quite at the ramp, and began pulling the knives from his body.

"Semreh, get up here!" Semreh heard Scout cry. Semreh obliged, swinging himself up and over the ramp, carrying Tara with him. Once on the ramp, Semreh nodded at Scout and began heading back towards the cockpit, but Scout shook her head, pointing at Lena and Hanna.

Semreh looked back at them, bit his lip, then cursed rather fluently in huttese as he and Scout hurried to help them. The _Arrow_ was already hovering just inches off the ground, but they could still drag their fellow Jedi on board. However, when Semreh reached Hanna, he felt her chest, feeling for a heartbeat. There wasn't one.

Scout had better luck with Lena and began dragging her back. The Chagrian's blue face had paled, but her eyes were still fluttering between open and closed. They were halfway up the ramp when they heard a thud above them. Standing on the ramp, was Seth, his cruel arm grasping Tara, whose terrified expression matched the waves of emotion she was giving off in the Force.

In that brief moment, time seemed to stand still. Semreh felt like before, when he'd been battling the trandos. He felt as if he could see everything, through steel, flesh and bone. The environment around him was so clear. He saw the charging stormtroopers, the angry hurricane that was Seth, the pure animal terror of Tara. In that moment, he didn't need the Force to know what was going to happen next. When it did though, he was powerless to stop it.

**_Puuuuleeeeeeez review!_**


	57. Chapter 57 Schism

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Okay, so I'm having trouble uploading. For some reaosn, it erases random letters and spaces. So, sorry if some looks wierd.

**_Also, I have a favor to ask; If you know anyone else who would enjoy this, please spread the word. I'd like to get more readers._**

Tara lost control. The ground beneath the Arrow seemed to heave upwards, as if caught in a telekinetic storm. Semreh was distinctly reminded of an old holovid he'd seen, _the_ _Warlock_ _of_ _Ix_, where the main character and her house are picked up by the wind and blown away. Semreh, still standing on the ramp, grabbed one of the support pillars and held on for dear life. Tara, lost at the center of her own Force nexus, did not and Semreh had to reach out and grab her limp hand before she fell from the ramp.

Seth, whose arm had previously been wrapped around Tara, slid down along the ramp, barely catching the edge. Across the ramp, Semreh saw Scout; still clutching to her Chagrian friend Lena as her other hand clung to the support strut opposite Semreh's. Her hand slipped, and Lena fell, tumbling towards the end of the ramp.

Scout screamed, reaching out for her, but couldn't reach. Then, the strangest thing happened. The shoulder wounded Lena, whether by some gift of the Force, or by a last animal instinct to survive, had grabbed onto Seth's leg. And there she clung for dear life, even as the Arrow continued to rise ever higher and farther from the ground.

Lena clung to Seth's leg, and Seth, much to Semreh's surprise and relief, did not try to shake her off. He knew the only reason he wasn't already dead, was because he was her lifeline…literally. For a few moments, both Scout and Semreh looked at each other. There were a lot of questions to be answered, for both of them, but killing Scout's best friend would hardly be a good way to start off their friendship. However, that assassin needed to die. Semreh felt it in his bones.

It was one of those crossroad decisions that Semreh hated making. Luckily, that decision was taken out his hands a second later. There was the unmistakable ping noise of a bullet hitting steel. Seth's head snapped backwards, a sizable dent in his mask. Semreh looked back up the ramp, and saw Fless standing there with a pistol held in his classic shooters stance, one fist clutching the handle, the other cupping the bottom.

"_Ash'amur kyramla_!" Fless spat, pulling the trigger another couple of times. The bullets pinged off Seth's helmet, but, amazingly, he didn't let go. He just kept clinging to the ramp. Finally, Fless fired one more shot, and his grip slipped. He fell and Lena followed, their bodies spinning as they were buffeted by the wind of their fall.

"Lena!" Scout screamed her voice almost quiet over the rushing wind. She almost let go of her own grip, which would have sent her tumbling through the air just like Lena, but Sten was there, dragging her back up the ramp by her hand. Semreh, pulling the still apparently unconscious Tara close, reached out with the Force and began channeling her Force energy into him and away from the air around the _Arrow_. She was still giving off an almost uncontrollable amount of Force energy, but the Arrow was now back under control and flying solely on its own engines.

Fless leaned against the bulwark of the ship, now wincing in pain as he clutched his wrist. He was obviously in great pain, and didn't notice Scout's glare as Sten steered the padawan into the ship. Semreh pulled Tara up the ramp as it closed, pulling her up by her skinny arms.

"Stay with her." He ordered Sten before turning to head to the cockpit. He rushed through the hallways of the Arrow, stumbling slightly as the ship began to exit the atmosphere and enter the range of Imperial Star Destroyer guns.

* * *

"Bravos, reform at coordinate's three-oh-three-nine. We've got _Tartan_ patrol ships closing at forty five degree angles above and below."

"Copy that Bravo Leader." Elliot said over her com. "Wing four will cover your retreat."

"Negative Ten." Gavin threw his N-1 into a spiral as the space around it exploded into cannon fire from the patrol ships. "Those things are designed to take down snub fighters. You won't last a minute. Now pull back."

"Sir!" Cyrnyd shouted over his com. "At least three more wings of ties closing on our sector."

"Com Alpha and Beta Wings. Tell them Bravo needs to pull back and that ties are gonna be bearing down on them."

"Sir, if we pull out, those ties will have height on Alpha."

"That's an order Bravo Seven." Gavin yelled at Cyrnyd. "You too Elliot. Pull away from those patrol ships."

"Yessir." Elliot ground out reluctantly. Gavin sighed, gunning his own engines towards a position behind the rest of the N-1 squadrons. These younger pilots hadn't fought in the Naboo resistance and despite their training; they had yet to learn that retreat was often the only option.

After making their way to the hanger with their speeder, Hollis and Gavin had met up with the rest of Bravo squadron at the hanger. Their N-1's were fueled and ready when they got there, and they immediately left, deciding to try and join the rest of the RSF Space Corp in holding back enemy reinforcements.

When they'd gotten to where the Space Corp was making its stand, several wings were already on station, in a wild dogfight with tie fighters and older V-Wings. The arrival of Bravo Squadron hat turned the tide, and the N-1's had briefly beat back the enemy attack. However, they were grossly outnumbered, and the enemy was moving heavier ships into the area. Add to that that no reinforcements were coming thanks to Panaka's orders, and the battle was looking bad.

Now, Bravo Squadron and the remnants of Alpha, Beta, and Zeta wings were holed up, their backs against the atmosphere. Gavin had taken overall command, and had the remaining snub fighters form into a Cambrian Circle. Considered the toughest defensive formation for space combat, the Cambrian Circle was formed by the various starfighters forming four different constantly spinning circles.

They held this tight, spherical formation and just kept spinning. This meant that the if any enemy fighters tried to breach the circles, they would constantly be in the sights of at least one enemy fighter. And, even if they breached the circle, they would be unable to get on the tails of any fighters because they would then have fighters on their own tails.

The problem was that this was designed as an anti-starfighter formation, not an anti-capital ship formation and the twin Tartan class patrol cruisers, bristling with quad laser cannons that could reduce an N-1 to floating debris in seconds. And if those ships penetrated the Cambrian Circle, then the battle would turn into a turkey shoot.

Gavin had to act fast. Imperial Star Destroyers were closing in for the kill, and all they had were N-1's. The Tartan patrol ships were closer now, about twenty seconds from being within range.

"All RSF units!" Gavin said, taking command. "Target the nearest _Tartan_ class ship. Lock on and fire every torpedo you've got. Don't hold back or save any."

"We breaking through their line?" Arven said, forming up next to Gavin. Out of the corner of his eye, Gavin saw Natasha doing the same.

"I'm having Seefor run a simulation." Gavin answered, as the squadron and remaining N-1's formed up into formation behind him. "We'll see what the prediction is…"

Seefor, like all astromatics, had dozens of mathematical programs. Once he took command of Bravo Squadron, he'd made sure the little droid also had dozens of simulation programs uploaded to his system. This turned the little droid into the largest collection of tactical situations on this side of the galaxy.

As Gavin watched the results of his simulation flash across the bottom of his screen, his heart plummeted. According to the simulation, they would take at least seventy percent casualties; an unacceptable number. Still, Gavin's new objective was to get as many fighters out of here as possible, and the only other option was to try and run the gauntlet between the Star Destroyers, a far more disconcerting idea.

"Targets are locked." Arven reported. "You sure you want to do this?"

"We have no choice." Gavin said. "Though…I really don't like the odds."

There was a pause on the other side of the comlink. "What if we added a custom freighter into the mix?"

"What do you mean?" Gavin murmured absentmindedly. He was coordinating the RSF's torpedoes and targeting the _Tartan_ ship rising to meet them. Then he checked his sensor display. There, rising from the atmosphere, was a medium sized freighter. Gavin turned his fighter, looking down towards Naboo. There was the distinct boomerang shape of the _Arrow_, its curved nose still red hot from its exit from the atmosphere.

"Bravo Leader, this is the _Arrow_. How you doing Gavin?"

"Fine Semreh." Gavin answered. "We could use a distraction though."

"Got it. You guys focus on that Tartan coming at you from below. We've got the one bearing down from above."

"Okaaaay." Gavin commed uncertainly. "But how is a small freighter like yours gonna-"

"We'll worry about that." A female voice interrupted. "Just get your fighters out of here."

Gavin had a nagging urge to ask who was giving him these orders, but bit back his question and began having Seefor calculate their jump to hyperspace and distribute the complicated set of jumps necessary to shake Imperial pursuit. They'd be doing a set of at least ten different jumps that would make it impossible for the Imperials to triangulate their position.

First though, there was the matter of that Imperial patrol ship. As the N-1's closed to within range of the enemy's quad laser cannons, they began taking desperate evasive maneuvers. The space around Gavin's cockpit exploded with flashing light and plasma bursts. This was what Gavin lived for. The desperate, knives edge feeling as he watched the armor on his ship char and whither from near hits and grazes. The feeling of exhilarating victory as he pulled through the wall of fire.

Another couple seconds, and the coms began to fill with status reports from the many squadron leaders. From the sounds of it, they were taking casualties. But now, it was the N-1's turn.

"All fighters, fire torpedoes."

Every N-1 in the formation let loose, their sparking blue proton torpedoes burning towards the cylindrical cruisers. They struck, almost all at once. The patrol ships, having shields designed to take plenty of fire from starfighters, were often in no danger from any number of snub fighters. However, no ship built can just take a combined volley of proton torpedoes without blinking. The patrol craft, though suddenly listing slightly and shaking, was still active. However, there was no way it could pursue the nimble N-1's.

With at least a part of their escape path cleared, the N-1's began positioning themselves for escape. However, there was still the matter of the one other patrol cruiser. That was for the _Arrow_ to deal with.

* * *

"Shields double front." Sonya confirmed, looking over the instruments. "Preparing to eject camo plates."

"Camo plates?" Semreh asked with a raised eyebrow.

"When we left Mandalore, we had our missile bays camouflaged with regular durasteel plates." Sonya explained. "Bren also gave us a nice little update to our weaponry."

"Meaning?" Semreh asked, as the _Arrow_ spun, letting quad laser volleys flash past it.

"Meaning, we just need to fire two shots." Sonya explained, targeting the patrol ship. "Fire the port missiles, then follow with the starboard missiles forty five seconds later.

Captain Kirb was an Imperial officer, one experienced in fighting the Confederacy. Of course, he had also gotten used to fighting droids, rather than flesh and blood. So, he really did not see an unexpected or unorthodox attack coming. For instance, he nearly jumped right out of his neat olive uniform when a spray of buzz droids hit the front windshield of the command ships windshield.

"Enemy buzz droid swarm." One of his ensigns said unnecessarily. "Probably left over from the war."

"I can see that." Kirb murmured drily. "Initiate basic shield burst charge. Burn'em off."

The crew went into action, each of them with their own job. Buzz droids were designed as an anti starfighter weapon. Released in swarms during battles, they were unleashed on the small starfighters and would disable them using a large number of weapons on their spherical bodies. However, they were largely ineffective against capital ships. Capital ships had many ways to repel them. The most useful of these was the ability to take their particle or ray shields and channel that through their hulls as a powerful electric charge.

Unlike many humanoid boarders or larger models of droids, the buzz droids did not have special armor that would protect them from an electrical attack like that, and their tiny droid brains were easily fried by this charge. All that was necessary to clear the buzz droids from the hull was a five second burst that would take only thirty seconds to recharge, plus a another five seconds for the shields to redeploy. Forty seconds, plus another five second interval where their shields would be down. Still, unless you were some type of Jedi, or a genius, it would be impossible to time that type of attack.

Unfortunately for Captain Kirb, the _Arrow_ had plenty of both. And when, the volley of missiles from the small freighter managed to break through the shields during their brief moment of weakness, he had very little time to regret it.

* * *

The Arrow formed up behind the cloud of N-1's as soon as Gavin transmitted the coordinates for their jump. Semreh sat behind the copilot's chair, watching the sleek ships with a combination of awe and admiration. They certainly were a beauty to behold.

"We don't have anywhere else to go." Gavin said over the universal com frequency. "I know some of you have doubts. After all, Panaka was one of us. The best of us." He paused, as if in reverence. "However, I'm not going back to play back seat to the Empire's occupation forces. And, there's something everyone here should know."

He paused again here, clearly trying to muster the courage and words to tell them. "The Queen is dead." He finally blurted out. "Killed by the Empire."

Across the com, there were murmurs of anger and worry. Some sounded disbelieving, but not even the Empire could cover that up. It would have to be reported to the holonet eventually. Semreh wondered what story they'd try and push on the public.

"I don't know about the rest of you." Gavin continued angrily, "But Bravo squadron is now officially in rebellion." He paused, taking deep breathes to calm his anger. Then he waited, as the rest of the squadrons from the N-1's sound off, agreeing with him.

"All right." He said finally. "Then let's go." The N-1's leapt to hyperspace with small bursts of light, and the _Arrow_ followed, pointing the way.

* * *

Once back at the Lantern base, the bewildered rebels landed in one of the many hangers carved from the asteroids. It had been a long trip, and many of the pilots, upon exiting their ships, stumbled, victims of several long hours in hyperspace. Semreh himself stumbled while falling down the ramp of the _Arrow_, but Scout caught his arm.

"You all right?" She asked quietly. Semreh was surprised; she wasn't exactly big, but she hauled him up pretty easily.

"I'm good. You?" Scout grinned down at him, and continued walking.

"I found a new set of allies." She reported, walking with Semreh towards where Bren was waiting, a pair of troopers flanking him.

"Really?" Semreh murmured distantly, already shaking hands with Bren. A lot was obviously on his mind, and he looked thoroughly troubled.

"How are you?" Bren said, looking at them both and shaking Scout's hand.

"Good." She said, smiling widely at him as Sonya took her place at his side. "I think the Commonality is in."

Bren nodded. "We've been in contact with other Outer Rim and Mid Rim planets willing to support us. Jabiim, Polus, Serenno, The Tion Hegemony, Toola, and many others are all rearming before the Imperials can move in on them."

"They saw what happened to Kashyyk, and it scares them." Sonya explained.

Semreh listened, noting with irony that many of the planets were Separatist strongholds. He also noted that many of them would be of only marginal help. Jabiim was famous for resistance, but was still mired by civil war. Serenno had been the chief stronghold of Count Dooku during the war, but he would bet that the great Houses would back out once fighting got too hot.

He knew the Tion Hegemony had been part of the Confederacy, and included many planets. It could be useful, as could Toola, the home world of the Whiphids. Semreh couldn't vouch for Polus though. Though the planet was important for its exportation of carbon freeze, he really knew too little about it to say which way it would lean if it came down to war. Still, the good thing about oppressive Empires was that they kept giving people more reasons to hate them.

"That's good news." Semreh whispered quickly. "But let's not have this conversion here." He looked at Bren, snapping out of his formerly preoccupied mood. "Establish a connection with Melida/Daan. We'll talk to them first, then decide how to proceed."

"Sooo," Bren murmured, looking around the hanger with new interest. "A conference of traitors, huh. Don't suppose I should contact the Naboo?"

"I suspect the only Naboo to help us, are in this room." Semreh looked up at Bren, a haunted look in his eyes. "The Queen is dead."

This made Bren take a step back in shock, as if he'd been punched. "Well," He murmured, his face falling, "That is…Unfortunate." When he looked up, he had a steely determination in his eyes. "You're alive though. We're alive. And while that remains true, we have hope."

"I guess." Semreh looked around, eyeing the Naboo soldiers a little nervously. "Anyways, can you find something for these pilots to do?"

Bren nodded. "I'm sure we can find something for them to do. Need plenty of instructors for new pilots."

Semreh turned; walking down the hallway, cloaked in what even Scout could feel was a deep anger. She followed on the heels of Bren and Sonya, catching Bren up with the situation of the commonality.

"More and more Commonality ships have been showing up over the months." Bren said as she finished his reports. "I'll give exact numbers in the conference, but till then, let's try and get in contact with our allies."

* * *

An hour later, they were all in the Lantern's largest command and control room. Located in the heart of the base's largest asteroid, it was a large chamber, with room for at least fifty people plus equipment. In it, Fless and Sten took up positions in front of a holographic representation of Nield, the president of Melida/Daan.

The president looked concerned and exhausted, as if he hadn't slept for weeks. Even Fless and Sten, coming out of a gruesome fight, looked better. On the other side of the room was Bren and Sonya, acting as tactical advisors and the commanders of Lantern Base. Also next to them was Bolt, looking as pale and emotionless as ever as he eyed the various leaders.

Prime Minister Kalasaad Wotzu was there, now representing the entire Commonality. After the Imperial occupation of Naboo (which was blamed on a battalion of rouge clones, with the Imperials "tragically" arriving too late to save the Queen), much of the Commonality decided it would not be long before the Empire took steps to removed their sovereignty. After all, much of the Commonality consisted of non-humans, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that the non-humans would be second class citizens in the Empire.

Also in the room were the Jedi and Tara. They all seemed very surprised to see that there was this much support for the rebellion.

"Most planets in the Empire are rearming." The Prime Minister explained, presenting them with a list of numbers and logistics. "It's only natural during these times. However, I don't think many are actually considering standing up to the Empire. They just want to protect their space from brigands and rebels, not fight a war against the Empire."

"Yeah, who'd be stupid enough to do that?" Fless joked with a grin. Nobody laughed, just exchanged grim looks. Sten elbowed his partner. "I was only kidding." He protested quietly.

"The problem remains the same." Nield said, still wearing his trademark white suit. "If we are going fend off the Empire, we need a fleet and an army."

"The ground forces won't be difficult to find." Bren said, glancing sideways at Bolt. "We have at least ten thousand troopers here trained by Bolt, plus whatever local troops the Commonality and Melida/Daan can muster."

"Which is a lot." Nield added. "After the civil wars, our people were used to having a lot of children." He grinned wryly at the Prime Minister. "Big families to feed the war effort against the evil Daan, or Melida. Anyways, after the war, we kept having big families. If not for our rather large economic boom as a major trade lane to the Outer Rim, it could have been a problem."

"So, how many soldiers can you field without crippling your economy?"

"Well," Nield mused, pretending to count off on his fingers. "Our total population is around six or seven billion, so I can see us fielding a large ground force in the tens of millions." He paused, looking worried. "Of course, that's militia with inferior training and a lot of conscriptions."

"Yeah." Fless nodded. "And the Imperial Army would dwarf that number easily. Even with Commonality reinforcements."

"Not to mention the Imperial navy." Semreh added quietly, in deep thought. "If they can just wipe us out from orbit, then it's not as if we have any chance."

"And that requires a navy of our own." Sonya finished, looking at Prime Minister Kalasaad Wotzu. The old man shrugged.

"We have plenty of planetary defense navies from our planets that are ready to move. The problem," He tilted his head thoughtfully, "Is that these navies were officially folded into the Imperial navy after the Battle of Rendili."

Semreh nodded, remembering the brief crisis where the planet of Rendili threatened to break away from the Republic and take its fleet with it. Afterwards, Palpatine had convinced the Senate to pass a resolution centralizing home fleets under the Republic Navy. In retrospect, it had all been a way to weaken resistance to his reign.

"I think we're all avoiding a very big, very important question."

Everyone in the room turned to Scout, who looked them all in the eye, a fierce gaze in her eyes.

"We're finding all these reasons that we're going to lose." She began. "But I want to know; does anyone think that we're still secret?" Silence.

"Could the Empire figure out, from what they find out at Naboo, whether they had outside help? Are we still a secret?"

Silence again. Fless and Sten exchanged nervous glances. Nield looked thoughtful. Bren and Sonya were worried. And Semreh…Well, Semreh was brooding in the corner.

"It is…Unlikely that our support for the Naboo will go unnoticed." Nield finally said. "I'm sure there was evidence everywhere in Naboo, and it's not like three wings of N-1's will just disappear." He looked from Sten to Fless. "In your experience, will Imperial Intelligence trace us?"

"Yes." Sten announced bluntly. Fless winced, then nodded.

"So," Scout continued, "Now that that question is out of the way, how are we going to fight back when the inevitable strike comes?"

"By striking back first." Semreh answered, getting up. "We all knew it would come down to this. We all knew this would end in us making a stand." He turned to Nield. "Can you get your council to authorize mobilization?"

Nield shook his head. "Not immediately, but give me a month and every militia member across the planet will be moving. I guarantee it."

Semreh nodded, already feeling himself taking command. "Good. Now, we can't just take punches. We have to dish them out." He turned to Fless. "We need a really big target, something that will tell the Empire and the rest of the galaxy that we're gonna take them on, and win. Something that will convince the rest of our allies to fight."

"Yeah." Fless said slowly. "There are a few things we can do. But I'll have to talk to you about them in private."

"Understandable." Semreh said. "In the mean time, we've got two things to keep us occupied; the Fenrir project and getting troops ready on Melida/Daan." He looked at Nield sadly. "That's where we'll choose to make our stand."

"I wasn't planning to move millions of troops anyways." He agreed. "Once the council is convinced, I'll move militia troops under the cover of our shield generators. We'll draw the Imperials in, and make 'em pay for every foot of ground they take."

"Good." Semreh nodded approvingly. "We'll call in reinforcements from the Commonality and as many other planets as we can, but keep it subtle. Oh and Kalasaad," Semreh said, looking at the holo of the Prime Minister. "I know you've already sent us a few ships free of Imperial…infections. However, I think, when the time comes, a mass mutiny may be in order."

The Prime Minister nodded. "Of course."

"All right." Semreh eagerly rubbed his hands together. "I'll be at Melida/Daan within a day or two to talk with Nield." He looked at the Prime Minister. "You have Commonality planets ready to respond if the Empire attacks, and keep up negotiations with other planets. The Subjugation of Naboo will no doubt make other planets uneasy."

"It certainly has." Kalasaad Wotzu said, a grin hidden beneath his bushy mustache. "Our diplomatic intelligence says the Imperials have been busy. A surprising number of people out there hate the Empire."

"How are they even in power?" Elena murmured distantly.

"Because people fear the Imperial Army more." Kalasaad Wotzu sounded bitter.

Fless cleared his throat loudly. "We actually receive an interesting piece of Intel on that matter." He pointed to a large star map planted in the center of the room. It showed the entire galaxy, and was color coded according to what areas the Empire controlled (red) and what parts of the galaxy were in rebellion (blue). There was a lot of rd.

"The wookiees are still in rebellion and Kashyyyk is still having Imps pouring into it. Add to that all the tiny revolutions and silent resistance groups, and trying to cover every planet under their control…Well, the Empire now needs to prioritize." Fless pointed at Kashyyyk now. "Vader himself was evidently dispatched to Kashyyyk to end the war."

"And this is important why?" Elena said impatiently.

"Aside from the fact that he may have a bowcaster bolt put through his helmet, if we're lucky?" Fless pointed at the few areas in blue. "The Empire's getting serious about rebellion, and I think, because we can't afford to defend a whole sector, we need to focus our efforts on one planet."

"And leave the rest defenseless?" Kalasaad Wotzu challenged, but Fless shook his head.

"We need to disguise your ships as something else. Make a new banner, if you will, that will keep the Commonality off the radar."

"Ah, of course." Semreh said, smiling at the sheer deviousness of the plan. "We give the ships the Commonality sends to the Lantern new transponders, paint jobs, and anything else that could identify them as Commonality. Then, we go to war."

"Eventually." Halber corrected, looking at Semreh with concern. "War should not be a Jedi's only concern."

"Things change." Semreh shot back. "The Empire changed things."

"Not everything." Halber chided. "We're still Jedi."

"And if we want to remain Jedi, the Empire needs to die."

Halber and Semreh fell silent, glaring at each other. Semreh may have needed to stand on a stool to be level with Halber, but he had this calmly dangerous _Try it_ look in his eye. Then again, Halber probably could have punted Semreh across the room.

"Boys, boys!" Elena said, stepping between them. "Could you cut the macho act for half a second? The last thing we need is rebellion amongst us."

Semreh looked around now. The various leaders were looking at them, surprised. It looked as if they'd just realized that the Jedi they had pledged to help, were barely older than sixteen. Semreh still didn't understand why they had agreed to follow him, a mere padawan. Now was certainly not the time for infighting, which would only shake his support even more.

"This was a mistake." Scout said, looking from Halber to Semreh as she stood up next to Elena. "We all just came out from a very bloody battle, and lost a lot good friends." Her voice nearly broke several times, but she kept going. "I know I'm not one to suggest this, but we need to wait and meditate."

"What we need to do," Semreh said, rounding on Scout, "Is get to Melida/Daan."

"And we will." Scout said, standing her ground. "Right away, but I think we all need to think on what happened back there."

"It will take time to prepare all the things necessary for this war." Nield offered. "And we need you here anyways."

Semreh looked at them all, then felt his face redden in embarrassment. It really had been a long day, for him to lose control like that. He nodded, then bowed out of the conference.

"Okay." Nield said, filling the silence. "Semreh, you return to Melida/Daan, and bring my Chasers would you? I'm afraid I'll be needing them." The holo of Nield turned to Kalasaad Wotzu. "You can have troops and ships ready to move when the time comes."

Kalasaad Wotzu nodded affirmatively. "When Melida/Daan fights, we will fight."

"Good. Then may the Force be with us all."

Mando'a Dictionary-

Ash'amur kyramla- Die (violently) Killer!

**_Thanks for reading. Please review and tell your friends._**


	58. Chapter 58 A New Battle

**_Okay, this one took a while. However, I can officially say the first arc of this story is done. Now, on to the second arc._**

**_However, before I continue, I would like you all to take a look at the bottom of the story. there, you will find a few "teasers" for the next arc, and several rewards for those of you who have stuck with me for so long. For example, pictures of what I based my character's appearances on. If you want to see them, please P.M me and tell me your favored mode of transfer (E-mail, or whatever. I swear, this isn't some scam, and I will erase your email from my memory afterwards). Please note that, if you look at these picture, I, in now way, own them. _**

Seth snapped awake, but his eyes stayed shut, hiding his irises from the light. He tried to move his arms, but could not. Blinking slightly, he opened his eyes.

"_Wait_!?" He felt his face fall into shock. "_Eyes_!?"

His right eye, trapped in darkness for weeks on end, was opened against the light. Instinctively, he tried to reach up and feel it, but his arms were restrained. He struggled vainly against them for a moment, then fell back, breathing hard.

"You are lucky the Emperor is more forgiving then I am."

Seth turned, squinting against the light, to see Vader, his massive black frame contrasting against the bright white light beating down on him. Seth glared at the Sith for a moment, then looked down at his body with interest. A team of droids were at work on his numb body, pushing bones back into place and sewing replacement skin back onto his body.

"Not very Sith-like, keeping a failed servant alive like this." He looked back at Vader, grinning crookedly. "Obviously you need me for something."

Vader said nothing; only holding up Seth's once dented mask, now repaired. "The micro holocam placed on your helmet provided a wealth of information, and the Emperor has a new mission for you."

"Can't wait." Seth murmured, already testing his presence in the Force. Just like before, he could feel the Emperor's presence within his body, but it was different now. Definitely weaker.

"_More proof that this suit is the key." _He thought as he fell back on the table, one of the droids below pushing his thigh bone up and back into its socket with a sickening squelch.

"This is disgusting." Seth turned, looking Vader up and down. "Where are we?"

"My flagship over Kashyyyk. I had you transferred here from Naboo, after the stormtroopers collected you."

"And the troopers?"

"The Emperor expressed to me the importance of _absolute secrecy."_

Seth nodded. He'd expected as much. Anyone who came into contact with him needed to die. Not that Seth had plans to remain under Vader's thumb like this for long. The more he learned about this suit, the more he realized that it somehow involved dark Sith magic of some kind. Even now, he felt as if his body was corrupted, infested with the dark side as parts of the suit were reattached.

Sith alchemy was an obscure art practiced by the ancient Sith. It was responsible for some of the most vicious beasts and monsters that roamed the galaxy. Sithspawn like the rancor, battle hydra, terentatek, leviathans… There were hundreds, all created over the centuries by Sith Lords. But Sith alchemy was certainly not limited to that.

Sith magic was a slightly different branch, very similar to Force powers, but different in many ways. More often than not, it manipulated the minds of enemies, creating fear and casting illusions. The ancient texts claimed that the most powerful Sith could even create supernovas within stars and invoke the spirits of Sith lords long dead.

Obviously, this suit involved some type of alchemy, giving the Emperor a connection to Seth that allowed him to feel him across the galaxy, to inflict pain. It was the Emperor's leash to Seth, and if he was ever going to be free, he'd need to find some way to remove it. And that would require three things.

One, someone powerful enough to reverse the Sith alchemy. Two, somehow, he needed to learn how to reverse the effects. That would require ancient knowledge that was rare in the world. Three, he'd need to find a way to hide from the Empire. No point in escaping the Emperor's grip to just be hunted for the rest of his life. Seth knew personally how effective the Emperor's assassins could be.

* * *

Semreh sat in the copilot seat of the _Arrow_ as it burned through the Melida/Daan atmosphere. Everyone was quiet, deep in their own thoughts. Halber looked troubled, his face staring determinedly at his blaster rifle as he cleaned it. Tara had her face hidden in her arms, hiding that she was crying silently. Scout was just staring ahead, looking almost comatose. Semreh just felt numb, as he always did after a bad fight.

Only Elena looked unaffected. She was in the hold, going through the lightsaber passes for the Ataru form. Her mind seemed comfortably lost in her flips and acrobatic attacks. When Semreh glimpsed her eyes, he saw a flicker of joy. It worried him.

As the _Arrow_ landed in the Chaser's secret hanger base, Semreh and the rest of the padawans began filing out, following Fless and Sten. Everyone was quiet, but there was a tension beneath the surface. Semreh could feel it in the Force. The Chasers and the rest of the Jedi's allies were still solidly behind fighting the Empire, but Semreh could feel the Jedi padawans were strongly divided over it.

Scout felt overwhelmed with sadness, though she hid it well, and Halber was fuming silently to himself. And beneath Halber's anger, was shame. That was what was driving his emotion out of control; pure, mind numbing grief.

It was to be expected of course. Elena and Nick were simply a different breed of Jedi than Scout and Halber. For them, killing had become second nature, as had losing battles and friends. Halber had fought in the Clone Wars, but he had been lucky. After losing his master, he'd been assigned to diplomatic missions (something he was remarkably skilled at. And Scout had still been in training! Despite her adventure to Vijun, Naboo would be the first time she'd watched friends and allies who had relied on her fall en masse. It would be rattling for anyone.

Even Semreh was beginning to lose hope. The loss of the Naboo was a critical blow. Maybe not lethal, but enough to make everyone in their alliance think twice. If they were to remain united, the Jedi Alliance, as Semreh had come to call it in his head, would need to strike back.

Semreh was already planning on talking to Fless about that when he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Scout.

"Come on. We all need to talk."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the Jedi, Tara, and the two Chasers were in a speeder heading for Zehava. Nobody spoke but Scout, who tried to make idle conversation with Fless in the front seat.

"So," She said, leaning forward her head was in the front seat, between Fless and Sten. "Are there any good places to eat here?"

That took everyone by surprise. Even Sten looked shocked.

"Huh? You want to eat?" Fless turned his head to look at her for a second, then paid attention to the road. "Now?"

"Best place to talk and mourn is at the dinner table. And I feel like we could do both right now."

Fless looked like he might argue for a second, but then just turned back to the road. "The Trinity Bar is my favorite."

Scout nodded. "All right. Let's go."

* * *

Zehava had, over the years, become a thriving metropolis, with high skyscrapers and a massive population. It was like someone had taken a small, microscopic piece of Coruscant, and dropped it onto Melida/Daan. Much of the city was made from carved stone, and traffic was heavy. However, it was obvious that a lot of planning had gone into making the city. The Melida and Daan had carefully built their buildings as high as possible, cramming as many people as they could into very tiny spaces.

It was true that Melida/Daan had gone through an explosive growth in the years following their civil war. Their economy and population had increased exponentially, and where the middle generation (17-28) had previously not existed, it now made up the largest part of the population.

When they finally arrived at their destination, Semreh could only describe the bar as…rustic. It was a small mostly wooden shack snuck between the skyscrapers and slummy buildings of Zehava. As Fless and Sten led them through the front door, they were greeted with the smells of meats cooking on spits and drinks being poured. The barkeep looked up at Fless and nodded, calling back into his kitchen for the usual.

"And the kids?"

Fless looked at them. "Well, I'm not your parents. What do you want to drink?"

"Coruscanti Cooler." Elena said without hesitation.

"You can't drink." Halber reprimanded before Elena kicked him in the shins.

"I can do whatever I want." She growled, passing a small handful of credits across the scarred counter. She turned to Semreh. "You?"

"Dodbri whiskey."

"Cheap."

"Strong." Semreh corrected.

"I'll have water." Scout murmured, accepting a glass from the bar tender.

Once they all had their drinks, with the Chaser's each drinking some god awful liquor with enough alcohol to, as Fless put it, "Burn the hair off a bantha", and Tara sipping a drink as she listened to music through her headphones, Scout did something unexpected. She started telling stories.

For the next hour, she talked about her times at the temple. About Lena. About Hanna. Funny stories, sad stories, stories that made Semreh sad, stories that made him happy. She kept talking for an hour. Nobody interrupted her. Even the Chasers and Tara listened intently, despite the fact that they'd never been to the temple.

Semreh found himself feeling homesick. He'd lost so many friends over the years, but the temple was the biggest blow. Even during the grueling battles of the Clone Wars, the temple a place where he could recover. Maybe that's why everyone had been so down after their mission to Naboo; they really had no place to go.

Finally, Scout finished. For a moment she blushed, and turned away, murmuring, "Master Yoda did this for us when Whie and I lost our master."

Everyone was quiet. Then, Tara cleared her throat.

"I-I grew up on the move in the Outer Rim. My parents didn't want to stop anywhere because of my…problem. Eventually, even they got tired of it, and left me."

Semreh felt several of the Jedi start. They all felt that feeling. All of their parents had given them away early on too.

"After that, I was on my own. I towed away on ships and went from planet to planet. Still, anywhere I started to get comfortable, my powers forced me to move, and hurt people I was around."

Her voice cracked and she bowed her head. Semreh put a hand on her shoulder, reaching out in the Force to keep her company.

"We all did things we regret, especially during the war." Elena leaned back, sipping from her glass. She kept her face straight, looking as if nothing was affecting her. Even in the Force, Elena felt…unaffected.

For a while, the Jedi and Tara shared stories. Friends they'd lost, things they'd done. They were minor things compared to the war itself, but they piled up. Finally, Halber spoke.

" If I may." Halber murmured, clearing his throat. Suddenly, he looked up. "I've got a confession to make."

"Shoot."

"When Order 66 was enacted, I was in the temple." As he spoke, every word seemed strained, his face infinitely sad and ashamed. "Some padawans were trying to make a stand in the dormitories. Akite was leading them."

Semreh nodded. He remembered Akite vaguely from his days in the temple. She was a good padawan. Good Jedi. Semreh thought she had died during the war.

"There was…some Force user killing us alongside the clones. He was killing us all." Halber's voice began to crack. "She and the rest of the padawans and younglings barricaded themselves in one of the rooms. And when I had the chance to join them, I-I didn't."

Semreh thought he'd never seen Elena look so furious, but it wasn't her usual raging, fiery temper. Instead, she just looked at Halber as if he were some type of loathsome insect she would loved to crush beneath her boot.

"You let them die." She growled. Elena may have been sitting like the rest of them, but she may as well have been looking down on her old comrade. "You ran away."

"I think he made the right decision." Semreh winced as Elena whirled on him.

"Really? I never took you for a coward Semreh."

He shrugged. "We need every Jedi we can get at this point. I'd take the just about anyone." He grinned. "Wait till you meet my new master. He's absolutely ancient and the most unpleasant human being to be around I've ever met." He winked and chuckled before taking another sip.

"Besides," He added, "Old war is over. We _all_ get a new chance here."

He emphasized the word _all_, looking straight at Elena as he said it. She shifted uncomfortably and looked like she might argue when she suddenly looked up and past her fellow padawans shoulder. Semreh, intrigued about what could possibly draw Elena's attention during their in depth discussion about the moral ambiguities, turned.

In strode around twelve men. The best word Semreh could come up with to categorize them was "thugs". They had blasters, but wore them in their belts and pants like a bunch of gangbangers. Good way to get some important parts of your lower body blown off. Elena sighed heavily.

"Recognize them?" Semreh asked without looking away.

"No, but I definitely recognize their type." Looking back down at her drink, she locked eyes with Halber and nodded.

As the twelve guys continued moseying into the bar, they began to make some disturbances for the patrons. Semreh watched it all dispassionately for a while. The gang demanded drinks first, obviously planning on getting drunk, which they did with enthusiasm. The Chasers looked annoyed, but when Sten got up to do something, Fless merely murmured that they were off duty.

* * *

Semreh, upon reflecting later, realized that Elena was in a thoroughly dangerous mood, made worse by there being twelve drunk men staggering around her and disturbing her. If Semreh remembered one thing about Elena during their time as padawans together, it was that you didn't disturb her after a mission. Whether she was meditating in the temple's gardens, or practicing alone in a training room; you were supposed to steer clear. Especially after some of the messy missions of the Clone Wars.

So when one particularly drunk man staggered up to her and threw an arm around her, saying "Come on girly! You and I could have a lot of fun tonight." Semreh felt a stab of surprise when she turned and actually smiled into his drunk breathe.

For a minute or so, the drunk man flirted with her, his eyes dazed. And Elena just kept smiling, a dreamlike gaze on her face. Then, the man's hand traveled just a little too low. Again, Elena turned and flashed a smile. Of course, it was no longer the dreamlike smile from before (Which Semreh, in retrospect, was there because Elena was imagining what she was going to do to this man). Instead, she had that dangerous grin that occasionally scared Semreh.

When the man's hand holding the shot glass fell, ever so subtly, onto her thigh, she let her own hand fall on top of it. For a second, the man's grin widened, pleased that this young, beautiful girl was being so receptive to his advances. Then, Elena squeezed her hand, crushing the man's hand around the shot glass, and shattering it. She continued squeezing, forcing the shards of sharp glass deeper into the drunk's hand, before releasing.

The man stepped back, looking at his bloody hand with a stupid look on his face for a moment. Then he started screaming.

"What the hell did you do!?" He yelled, clutching his hand.

"I gave you a hand job."

Fless's drink dribbled and spurted from his mouth as he laughed in mid-drink. Sten patted his friend on the back, keeping him from choking. Even Halber cracked a smile.

"Now, please leave." Elena turned back to her friends, politely asking Scout how she had escaped the Empire. The thug, still looking at his hand in disbelief, drunkenly began to draw his blaster from the front of his pants.

Now, Semreh was a mostly honorable Jedi. He didn't hit below the belt a lot. Of course, seeing this drunken moron trying to shoot one of his friends, a girl no less, in the back of the head annoyed him and, before the thug could completely draw his blaster, Semreh reached out with the Force and, with a subtle wave of his hand, pulled the trigger of the man's blaster. The man's face looked horrified as there was a flash of light, and he found himself castrated by his own blaster bolt.

The rest of the man's gang was beginning to take notice now. One of them drew a blaster, aiming at the table. Before he could fire, Halber drew his lightsaber, igniting it.

"Back off." He growled, angling his saber.

"Ooh, a Jedi." One of the thugs mocked. "I'm so scared."

"You know, there's a bounty on you guys. A rather nice bounty." One of the thugs, a mammoth of a man, stepped forward. He grabbed a small vibro axe from his belt.

"You see, this is the problem with people these days." Elena mocked loudly to her friends. "Halber and I have been dealing with people like this for months. Seems like even thugs think they can take Jedi these days."

"It's not the bounty hunters and Imperial assassins," Halber agreed, "It's morons like these."

"I can still hear you!" The thug roared.

"Oh praise the Force! He can hear us?" The Elena rolled her eyes. "We've killed battle droids. What makes you think you can-"

She was interrupted as the thug charged, swinging his axe. Elena let herself fall lower into her seat, slumping down. The axe cut through the wooden chair's back, but Elena grabbed the wooden handle, stopping its descent. She lashed out with her foot, kicking the heavy man in the side of the knee. He collapsed, just in time to be caught in the side of the head by Halber's foot.

Someone in the crowd screamed "Bar Fight!" and all hell broke loose.

The thing about the average member of the galaxy was that, ignoring the occasional pacifist and vegetarian, loved to fight. Especially in big crowds. Somehow, crowds led to fights. And the Jedi, having just survived one of the most stressful weeks of their life, were itching for a fight.

* * *

Scout knew what the thugs were going to do before they even began moving. One way her master had helped enhance her precognition was by teaching her to read her opponents movements. Every subtle shift of weight, every slight movement, and every tiny twitch. Her master had trained her to watch carefully for these signs, and she used that, in combination with her Force Precognition, to predict her enemy's movements and keep up with enemies who would otherwise wipe the floor with her.

One of the thugs, a big guy holding a vibroknife, was leaning ever so slightly towards Halber, his hand twitching around the knife. Scout knew he was going to go for Halber, and jumped up to intercept him. She was already there as the man turned, twisting his knife towards the distracted Jedi. Scout turned, letting her feet slide to a stop in the man's path.

He kept coming, too drunk to care what he killed. As he thrust forward, Scout ducked, crouching into a ball for a brief moment, then coming up, landing to strikes onto the thug's exposed stomach. He gasped for a moment, shocked that his target had apparently disappeared. When he looked down, Scout had already grabbed one of the man's arms and, pivoting so his arm locked together, swung the man around once, twice, and released, sending him into the bar, where the barkeep finished him shattering a glass bottle over his head.

Scout grinned, but was surprised when a man suddenly grabbed him from behind. "Hey!" She barked, kicking and flailing her legs as the man grabbed her in a bear hug an picked her up. "Let go of me you gravel maggot!"

"Oh, strong language from the little girl." He laughed starting to squeeze. Scout felt her ribs creaking beneath the pressure. She gasped for air for a second and kicked backwards, hitting the man in the shin. The minor pain he felt wouldn't have been important except, at that moment, there was a blur, and Semreh, his movements amplified by the Force, appeared next to him. The man, distracted, looked up only in time to see the back of Semreh's closed fist whipping into his face.

The man flew back, landing amongst a crowd of rioting bar folk. Scout got to her feet, dusting her tunic off as she did.

"I totally had that." She exclaimed indignantly.

Semreh grinned. "Sorry, sometimes I get over enthusiastic."

"About fighting?"

He shook his head. "No, but this is more like what we used to do. You know, before the war."

Semreh flashed another grin before jumping back into the fight. Scout watched him go. She didn't really know what it was like to have missions like that. Semreh had probably been adopted as an apprentice when he was young, but Scout had missed out on that, being selected much later.

As she mulled this over in her head, she was dimly aware of a man, one of the random bar goers who had joined in on the brawl, charging her from behind. As he leapt, going for a full body tackle from behind, Scout merely dropped on one knee, scrunching her body together the best she could, so the man sailed over her and into a heavy wooden chair. Three more charged her, and the man she'd just ducked had jumped back onto his feet and was already coming back for more.

He took two steps, before he ran headlong into a chair swung by Halber. The Jedi padawan was an impressive sight. He stood a full foot taller than Semreh, and was just as broad. Swinging the barstool, he looked like some type of berserker. Halber was easily bigger than most of the padawans his age, but he had only a small amount of emotion on his face, as though he was not enjoying all this. Grinning, Scout leapt to help him.

* * *

Semreh was getting tired of all this. With their superior training and experience on the battlefield, the Jedi and Chasers were easily holding their own. However, there was only so long they could hang around here.

Semreh was aiming a punch at one of the many men when he stopped short. "Obs!"

"Semreh!" The man said, recognizing. "My god, am I glad to see you!"

"Same here." Semreh grasped his hand, even as he reached out and grabbed a yelling brawler by the collar, pulling him into a headlock with his free arm. "What have you been doin'?"

"Oh this and that." Obs grabbed one of the men besides him, who was staggering with a bloodied nose. "Hey man, this guys one of my old buddies from before the Clone Wars."

"That's nice." The man murmured, before slumping against the counter.

"Yeah." Obs said, jumping on top of the counter. He whistled loudly, gathering everyone's attention. "Listen up everyone; free rounds on me!"

The crowd of brawlers stopped almost instantly, cheering rambunctiously and surging towards the bar, where the bar's owner was already filling glasses with drinks.

* * *

A few minutes later, the fighting had subsided. The brawlers, just about all men, had gathered around a music synthesizer and were singing, quite horribly in Scout's opinion, to some ancient classical tune. They were cheering loudly and swaying their drinks in tune with the song, even Fless. Halber was over near a dartboard with Semreh, Sten, and Semreh's new friend. Halber was showing off, using his extraordinary skill with dart throwing to entertain the rest.

That, of course, left Tara, Scout, and Elena staring dumbfounded and annoyed at the whole scene. What was it about guys that let them beat the hell out of each other one second, then be best friends another? True, the whole bar had universally decided to remove the gang members, throwing their unconscious forms out into the street. Still, how was it men managed to do that?

"Well," Scout said, stretching and yawning, "I'm gonna head back to the base."

"Are you sure you can find your way back?" Tara asked, concerned.

Scout though for a moment, then shook her head. "Sorry, no. Would you mind helping me out?"

"Of course." She smiled, then looked at Elena. "Will you be all right with these guys?"

"No problem. I'll just settle them down if things get out of hand." Elena grinned. "Go on. I'll catch up later."

Scout nodded and she and Tara left the bar, hurrying into the night. Elena turned back to the bar. Scout was young, but she'd certainly held her own in the bar fight. And Tara wasn't too shabby either. They were both inexperienced though, and that worried her.

Still, Elena was sure that her and the rest of the older padawans had enough experience for them all. Speaking of other padawans…

Elena switched her attention towards Halber, who was now tossing darts over his shoulder without aid of the Force. She narrowed her eyes slightly, and felt a bad taste enter her mouth. She didn't know why Halber running away from a fight made her so angry. Semreh had certainly done the same thing; probably more often than either of them. But he was a strategist more than a fighter; cool and calculating. She'd thought Halber was a little more like her. A little more…

"_Brave_?" She thought to herself. "_Reckless? Thrill seeking?"_

She shook such thoughts out of her head. Elena knew they weren't true. Halber had fought gallantly alongside her during the wars. Despite the fact that, a year in, he was assigned to more diplomatic missions, she knew he wasn't gutless. Neither was Semreh for that matter. They just fought and won their battles differently than her. It was less guts and glory and more thinking things through.

Which was fine by her. It just wasn't how she fought. The fact that Halber would abandon his own comrades…it worried her. Deciding she wasn't going to get anywhere by just thinking about it, she pushed herself off the wall and approached him from behind.

She didn't try to sneak, but when she murmured Halber's name, he jumped, sending a dart quivering into the wall a foot high of his intended target.

"Oh, Elena." He said. He was obviously happier now that he had the entertainment of the bar. "How are you?"

"Fine." She answered, crossing her arms that way women do when they want to talk. Halber obviously noticed this. He groaned.

"You want to talk, don't you?"

"Yep." She grinned. He turned, gathering his darts up for another game.

"About before." She took a deep breath, then forced a smile. "I'm sorry about before. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sorry, I don't drink." He murmured, sending a dart zinging into the center of the board.

"Right." Elena rubbed her head. "Some things never change."

"True." He drew something from his pocket. It was a, slim toothpick, about three inches long. "Watch this."

Placing the toothpick carefully between his teeth, he squinted at the target, adjusted his position, and spat. The toothpick fired from his mouth with enough force to leave it quivering a few inches from the center of the target.

"Damn." Halber cursed, grabbing another toothpick. "I'm still off a few centimeters."

"How'd you get so good at this?" Elena asked, impressed.

Lots of boring diplomatic meetings." He said, his voice distorted by the pick in his mouth. He spat again. This time the pick came closer.

"I want you to know though." Elena said, grabbing Halber's arm as he reached for another. "I'm glad you made it. Especially you."

Halber looked at her, surprised, then smiled. "Me too. Besides, someone has to look after you girls."

He smiled again, a second before Elena's fist nearly broke his jaw, and she stormed out of the bar.

* * *

Semreh leaned against the wall, listening alongside Sten as Obs recounted the scuttlebutt he'd heard around the galaxy. Obs was a smuggler working for the ORCS, or Outer Rim Crime Syndicate. He was also a man that, in the old days, had helped Semreh and his master Nostwa escape during one of their rougher missions. Being a smuggler, he had a wealth of information about the underworld.

"Word is," he warned, waving a finger, "That someone out there has a pack of mercs on your trail."

"Well, tell me something I don't know." Semreh growled, taking a gulp from his drink. "Providing justice and security for an entire galaxy can give you enemies."

"Yeah, well these guys are different. My sources say they're imperially funded and that their members were part of Dooku's Corpse Corp."

Semreh raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought we'd wiped them out."

The Corpse Corp were an elite group of Confederates that Dooku had hired to distract the Jedi Order. Specialists in combat and black ops, the Corpse Corp was reminiscent of the ancient Sith assassins. They didn't take Jedi head on; they drew them into traps and killed them. There name came from the extra damage they seemed to inflict on those around Jedi. Hostages, ambushes, etc. In reality, they have little effect on the war as a whole, but the Council had assigned many Jedi to hunt them down, taking precious strength away from the front line.

"So, these guys are after you?" Sten stated. "And they'll try to draw you out of hiding using dirty tricks. Sounds like the Chasers have a new job."

"Sound right." Obs took a deep swig of his drink, then looked at his holowatch in surprise. "Is that the time? Wow, I'd better get the crew moving." Obs pushed away, walking towards where most of his crew was lying unconscious. "See ya!" He yelled, waving over his shoulder.

Semreh forced a smile, but then turned to Sten once Obs was out of earshot. "If that's true, then all of Zehava could be in danger, along with our rebellion."

Sten shook his head. "Problem is, I can't see how they would track you. You Jedi have been all over the place."

"I don't know how they'd know we're here." Semreh said, pulling his datapad out and accessing the Holonet, looking for news about the world at large. "But I will find out. And _deal_ with them."

* * *

**_Okay, and this is a special treat for those of you who have kept reading up till now; Teasers of what is coming up next. Just small excerpts from future chapters. Nothing that will be a dead giveaway, but little things to keep everyone interested._**

Semreh couldn't feel his legs anymore. What energy he had left was fading rapidly. A week of trekking through the snow had taken its toll, wearing him down. His vision was pure white, the result of the snow storm's whiteout condition. There was only swirling snow and the occasional tree to break the doldrums.

Finally, he tripped over his own feet, landing face down in the snow. He didn't know how long he lay there. It no longer mattered. He'd be dead soon anyways. Still, he looked up. Semreh was surprised at what he saw. There, breaking through the wind and snow as if through sheer force of will, was a scraggily brown canine animal. Probably a wolf.

As he watched, Semreh chuckled slightly. It was ironic really; he'd survived a war, just to die alone in the snow, eaten by a wolf.

* * *

Tara strode through Zehava, using the interesting sights and people to take her mind off of the worries that crowded her head. She simply wasn't used to all this. Fights, battles, constant grueling war. It could take a toll on a girl.

As Tara continued her stroll, she was suddenly aware of a constant ringing to her left. Before her was a small public comlink terminal, complete with a waist high glass wall that could extend upwards for privacy. The comlink was ringing furiously, almost falling off its hook. For a moment, Tara considered just passing it. Then, without really thinking, she stepped into the both, and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Afternoon Tara." A familiar voice chuckled from the other end.

Tara's heart dropped, and her hand shook.

* * *

Fless dragged the struggled figure into the nearby alleyway, helping Sten keep the man quiet. Once they were safely out of earshot of the few people out late in the streets, Fless helped pull the black hood Sten had fastened over the man's face off. The man spat and sputtered threats, but Fless didn't care. He had his orders.

"You-" The man murmured, but Fless spun his stun stick expertly, catching the man in the cheek mid word.

"Listen, I'm tired. I'm cold. I just want to go home and relax for a couple more hours before I go back on duty." Sten grabbed the man by the collar with one black gloved hand and pulled him, pinning him to the stone alley wall.

"So why don't you confess already, traitor!"

**_Images_** _**in my brain about the next chapters-**_

Semreh charging his arm with crackling white-red energy as a line of hover tanks approaches.

Scout fighting wildly, grappling with troopers soldiers, some ragged, others in white armor, melee around her.

Elena and Halber fighting back to back in woods as blaster bolts flash out from the darkness around them.

Fless, battered and bloody, screaming "No!!!"

Bren, wounded firing his blaster pistol while leaning against the wall of a decrepit building.

Masked soldiers walking through a battlefield as gas rolls across it.

CTA-132 and C-41 standing atop a deserted building, Scout and her master on the other end.

Jenna running through the streets, Semreh following, his face set in grim determination.

Sami, Sonya, and the rest of the Rebel commanders standing around a table, worry on their faces

* * *

**_Okay, part two of my gift. More often than not, when I'm thinking up my characters, I base their appearances (though not always their personalities) on pictures and characters I already know. Sometimes, after I design the characters, I look around on defiant art and Google images for characters pictures that I think match my characters descriptions._**

**_If you would like to see what I imagine my characters look like, I would be more than happy to email the pics or something like that. In fact, it would be awesome. I'm interested to hear what you all think. If anyone knows a good way to post them privatley, please tell._**

**_Anyways, P.M me if you want to see, or add the request in your reviews. Thanks._**


	59. Chapter 59 Schemes and Visions

**_Hey! Thought I was dead? Yeah, so did most people. Anyways, I took August off so I could come up with how to end this. And I have a great way to connect all the little plot points. So, Anyways, this part is a li_**

Semreh had the dream again. More than a dream of course. A vision. A brief glimpse through the shutters of time. It was the same vision he'd had on Mandalore. Three armored figures, standing on a dusty plain. They each wore radically different armor.

The first had jagged edges and straight, lethal looking lines. A man from the looks of him. It covered almost all of his body, but left his right arm exposed. Semreh found this odd, as the arm was obviously injured. It looked burned; grey and deadened all the way through. The rest of the body was covered in what Semreh guessed was a Jedi tunic, and an heavy armor above that. The armor consisted of solid plate covering the front and the back torso, a wrap of metal plates around the stomach, and what looked like a kama of chainmail falling behind the figures legs.

The second wore armor that Semreh recognized as a variant of that Sith Assassins armor. The same jumpsuit figure, steel plating around vital points that provided maximum movement. The only diference was the lack of a steel mask. For some reason, Semreh couldn't make out the figures face or even the back of its head…But it felt familiar.

The third figure had the least armor on. It was a scaly looking armor. It consisted of small plates laced together and backed by leather. In fact, the greaves that covered her arm and legs were obviously not the shiny metallic metal of the other two figures, but a tough looking mix of reddish brown leather and durasteel all weaved together.

Behind the figures, a massive prone creature seemed to rise up and dissapate like smoke, leaving a plain battle scarred desert behind them.

Each of the armored figures was armed. He didn't know how he knew that; Semreh just did. It was as instinctive as the feeling he had that they'd each finished some type of fight. The way three of them stood, shoulder to shoulder, their backs to Semreh…They were looking at something. And then, Semreh saw it. Over the dusty haze, moving across the sand, was a dark figure. Semreh felt its ominous presence in the Force. It washed over him like a tsunami. And then he woke up.

* * *

It wasn't like the holovids. He wasn't sweating or panting. He didn't even jerk awake. Semreh's eyes simply opened, and he was back on his cot in the Chaser base. For a few minutes, he just lay there, pondering what he had seen.

Semreh had never had visions before. Some padawans did, and many masters could sense the future, but Semreh had never seen so far into the future as this. In fact, besides the occasional flashes in battle, he rarely glimpsed the future at all. So why, in when a war was about to start, would he start having visions? Why, when the light side of the Force was weakest, was he being warned of the future?

He shook his head. No time to worry about that now. War was coming eventually, and he and the rest of the Jedi Alliance needed to be prepared. Forcing himself out of bed, he saw that Jolon was already up, having left his rumpled bed sheets behind. Semreh headed outside, where he knew Jolon would be.

Eventually, he found the old man, walking amongst the woods above the Chaser base. He was taking notes in his tiny datapad and carefully observing the birds chattering and jumping through the trees.

"Fascinating." He kept murmuring to himself. Then he turned to Semreh, as if he sensed him coming. "I hope you have a good reason for disturbing me right now."

Semreh cleared his throat, ignoring Jolon's glare. "I was hoping you could keep training me."

Jolon looked at him, a thoughtful expression flickering across his face. "Something's troubling you. I can sense it."

He shrugged. "Just a recurring dream I keep having. Been buggin' me."

"Really? What of?"

Semreh recounted the dream, carefully reconstructing every scene and feeling he got from the dream. "The weird thing is," He said as he finished. "I've never really had a talent for seeing the future. I don't understand why I am all of the sudden."

Jolon stroked his white beard thoughtfully. "Well Semreh, these things are sometimes random. Who knows whether this so called vision is actually of the future? For all we know, it could just be symbolic."

"That's just it thought; I'm sure it wasn't just some dream. It was too detailed. I could see every seam and fold of fabric, and every chink in the armor."

"I don't know what to tell you padawan." Jolon whispered, pocketing his datapad with a sigh. "The fact is that I never held much stock in foreseeing the future. It is one aspect of the Force I could never understand, and I tend not to trust what I don't understand."

Semreh nodded reluctantly. Perhaps this dream was all coincidence.

"Do you have any more questions?"

"Actually, yes." Semreh used the Force, floating an old tree stump over so he could sit down. "While Scout and I were fleeing the temple, you heard about how there was a cloaked figure leading the assault."

Jolon cocked his head. "Yes. According to the girl, it was supposed to be Anakin Skywalker, correct?"

Semreh nodded. "But I never actually saw his face. Scout claimed that before her friend Whie died she saw through his eyes."

"Through Anakin's?"

"Through Whie's." Semreh corrected. "I've never heard of anything like that. She even said she felt the pain of the lightsaber carving through her. Claimed it was like being dipped in molten rock."

Semreh leaned back, crossing his arms, waiting for an explanation. Jolon pulled his datapad out and began scrolling through it again, interest lightening his face. Before long, he looked up.

"Do you understand about Bonding through the Force?"

"Is it similar to how Master's and padawans bond through the Force?" Semreh guessed.

Jolon nodded vigorously. "Sometimes, when a group of Force sensitives are close to each other emotionally, they form bonds through the Force. This allows them to better sense each other's presence and feelings." Jolon pocketed the datapad again. "It's possible the Scout was closer to Whie then you think. Perhaps close enough to have formed a bond in the Force."

Semreh paused. "You think she was in love?"

Jolon raised his hands, as if warding off the question. "I certainly can't claim to know that. It is possible to form a bond without love. Many Jedi have over the years. However, if Scout had a bond with Whie, and if it was suddenly broken by his death, she certainly would have felt a powerful pain, both physically and emotionally." The old man tilted his head, looking at Semreh deeply. "Some bonds can be forced upon people. Its how I managed to control Tara's power. I forced a bond on her and limit her powers through that."

Semreh thought back to Scout's reaction when Whie had died. Her mindless screams, her thrashing body…It all made sense. He'd have to ask Scout about that later. More importantly, this information gave Semreh reason to actually believe that Scout had been right; That Anakin Skywalker had been the cloaked Jedi leading the attack on the Temple. This meant that, if anyone was going to be leading the battle against the Jedi Alliance, it would be him.

Or this Vader character. The mysterious black monster was still a force to be reckoned with if the Chaser's intel reports were any indicator. Supposedly, he had crushed the rebellion on Kashyyyk with incredible ease. Apparently, according to survivor's reports, he also used the Force.

"_So, that means there's one obvious threat in the form of Vader, and one hidden threat in Skywalker, who nobody has seen since Order 66."_Semreh mused the idea over for a bit. "_Perhaps he's dead. Maybe Palpatine betrayed him like he betrayed us."_

"Semreh?" Jolon murmured after a few. "Do you want to begin training now?"

Semreh felt his mind jerk back into reality. "Sure. So, how do I use this form of Electric Judgment?"

Jolon began unwrapping his arm, carefully removing the bandages. "Understand this; if you don't learn to project a Force shield around your arm, using this technique would burn away your skin and bone before you had a chance to make any use of it. So, we will focus on that."

Jolon raised his arm out so it was straight as a board, then placed his other hand on his upper arm. "First, use your left hand to manipulate the Force energy in your arm. Use it to form a sheath up and down your arm."

For Semreh, it was hard going. Force Augmentation, as it was called, required supreme amounts of focus. The basic idea was to build up enough Force energy into an object, and hold it there so it projected a shield similar to a lightsaber's blade. Without that shield, the rapidly circulating energy of Electric Judgment would tear Semreh's arm to pieces.

However, having to use both Augmentation and Force Lightning was difficult. So difficult that it required both hands, one on the upper arm to weave the Force lightning while the other arm served as both the channel and the projector for the shield of Force energy. Combining the two was a difficult task of balance and precise control.

After an hour of hard work (and having to get his shattered arm healed three times) Semreh was closer to mastery, but was too exhausted to continue. Sitting back down, he sat with Jolon for a while. Neither of them spoke, they just watched the trees and the wind.

"Heard there was trouble at that bar last night." Jolon finally spoke. "Will the Empire find out?"

"No, the Chasers are taking care of it." Semreh leaned back, summoning a trio of stones to his hand. He rotated them around a finger, weaving complicated pattern. "Good thing they're on our side."

"Yeah." Jolon stared into the distance. "So, I know you've been thinking about how the Empire will proceed with their attack."

"I have."

"Have you figured out how they will move?"

"No, but I have an idea. It will either be Vader or this Seth assassin that we met on Naboo. They're the only people who I think the Empire would trust to lead an attack against Jedi."

Jolon nodded thoughtfully. "The Chasers told me about the assassin, but what about Anakin Skywalker?"

"Nobody has seen him since the Attack on the Temple. If he does come into play it probably won't be as a battlefield leader." When Jolon looked at Semreh questioningly, Semreh just shrugged. "I know it's not in his nature, but for whatever reason, Skywalker isn't showing his face."

"Well, then we'd better master this technique quickly then." Jolon rose to his feet, rewrapping his arm with the bandages that hid the damage the lightning caused him. "From what I've heard, even I would be no match for Skywalker. You'll need this technique to defeat him if you're unlucky enough to fight."

* * *

Scout awoke feeling rested and refreshed. Jumping out of her cot, she decided to have a quick shower before seeking out the rest of her Jedi friends. Hopefully, she'd then be able to find out what Semreh planned to do next. In all honesty, after finally gotten everyone to get along the night before, she felt like they could take on the Empire any day of the week. All they needed to do was gather their allies, and take it down.

Of course, she knew it wouldn't be that simple. The night before, Semreh had pretty much filled her in on everything. The Fenrir project, the mysterious slaving operations led by clones, Tara, the Melida/Daan Council's corrupt reluctance…It all seemed too much. There were just so many problems, and so little time. Still, Semreh had assured Scout they had time. With the Empire still experiencing growing pains, they didn't have a ton of resources at hand to go chasing fairytale rebellions when planets like Kashyyyk had full scale revolts going on.

"_Oh well_." She thought, yawning as she stripped her clothes off and stepped into the icy cold fresher. "_Nothing we can worry about till the meeting tonight."_

Semreh had called one the night before, claiming he and Brenner had finally decided how best to proceed. If they really had a plan, Scout felt she had little to worry about. That wasn't true.

As the cold water ran over her body, Scout let her mind drift away, lulled into a calm sleeplike trance. She thought back to the Temple, to Whie and Bene. And poor Lena. Scout groaned. There went the nice relaxing shower. She still wasn't sure she'd forgiven those…Chasers as Semreh had called them, for effectively killing her old friend. The fact that Fless had probably stopped the assassin from killing them all didn't help soothe her anger.

For not the first time in the days since then, Scout allowed herself to cry. She didn't sob, but let quiet tears snake down her face and merge with the cold shower water. Whie, Lena, even Hanna…They were all dead. She'd tried to protect them, but failed. Even with her new training, she failed.

Shaking her head and drying her eyes, Scout sat down on the shower floor, pulling her knees up to her chest. For a few minutes, she just wanted to be alone.

* * *

Semreh walked through the Chaser Base, letting his arm hang limply at his side. Turned out that letting that much electricity run through his body at once hurt worse than getting kicked in the face by a rancor. And that hurt a lot. He was so distracted by the pain that he almost ran headlong into Fless as he rounded a corner.

The Chaser spun away smoothly, landing in a slightly hunched over fighting stance. Then he straightened. "Good. I've been looking for you."

"You have?" Semreh groaned. "Can we do it later?"

"Actually, no." Fless pulled out his datapad, handing it to Semreh. "A list of data and intel regarding the recent slaver attack."

"Ah, has our little clone friend confessed?"

"No."

"I didn't think so." Semreh scanned the data flashing across the small computer, but his head was just too sore to really pay attention. "What exactly am I looking at here?"

"What you are looking at," Fless exclaimed dramatically, pulling the datapad away from Semreh, "Is proof that these trandoshan slaver attacks are, in fact, funded by someone in the Imperial ranks."

That grabbed Semreh's attention. "What?"

"Yeah. We found Imperial weapons and supplies on the slavers. That isn't such a big deal. After all, E-11's are becoming pretty common in the galaxy. Still, I had my contacts in Imperial production track down the supply numbers and production codes for that particular order group. It turns out that that shipment of supplies was sent to a certain Star Destroyer called the _Regal._ This star Destroyer happens to be under the command of one Rear Admiral Amistad, who is floating a couple dozen kilometers above our heads."

"The man funding these attacks?" Semreh raised an eyebrow. "You realize this is all perfectly legitimate reason for Melida/Daan to go to war. If you present this to the Council-"

"I'm giving it to Nield. He will know what to do." Fless pocketed the data, patting his suits jacket pocket. "The point is that we now know why there was a clone leading those Trandoshans. What we don't know is why, according to Imperial records, he is dead."

* * *

"Admiral Amistad, it appears you have failed to cover your tracks as well as I expected."

"Governor Tarkin," Amistad protested to the small hologram of his superior. "I have no idea how those clones found so much evidence. If you would just let me explain-"

"Enough." The old man's eyes flashed dangerously, and Amistad realized he was perilously close to a firing squad. "You are lucky those two clones were directly under my command. If the Empire were to find out about your slaving operations, I can assure you he would not be as lenient as I am." Tarkin sighed. "Luckily for you, Kashyyyk has still not provided my operations with enough slaves. That, and that alone, is the only reason your operation, and you, are alive."

Amistad heaved a small sigh of relief. Perhaps he would escape this alive after all. "So, as long as I continue to discreetly supply you with slaves, you will allow me to continue?"

"That really depends. Do you have any slavers remaining to run your raids?"

"No, but I can gather more quickly." Amistad explained quickly.

"And Lapan? I loaned him to you to lead these missions. What happened to him?"

"Dead." Amistad lied. If Tarkin thought there were more security breaches, he was dead. "But the trandos will be just as effective. Those lizards are always willing to work for me."

"I believe it." Tarkin growled contemptuously. "This time, make sure you plug any holes in your security. If the Melida/Daan discovers your operations, they could revolt." Tarkin tilted his head. "The Emperor is sending you another fleet for some reason. Perhaps it is political. The Empire may be putting a man loyal to him near you to keep an eye on you. Still, the task forces commander, Admiral Forte, will be under your command. Make sure he knows nothing."

"As you will governor." Amistad bowed, and the small hologram flickered out of existence. Amistad felt woozy all of the sudden. The clones investigating him had been under Tarkin's command? That explained a lot. Tarkin had been testing his security. The old man certainly loved to torture his subordinates like that. On top of that, Amistad was housing the clones who had nearly brought him to the executioners axe.

Drumming his fingers on his desk for a moment, Amistad sat down heavily in his chair. Tarkin had originally sent him here to watch over Melida/Daan as it was an important junction to the Outer Rim. However, after Tarkin had discovered Amistad's history of corruptness, he had used Amistad to create a system of discreet slaving. Nobody missed a couple of back country villages here and there, and Tarkin claimed he needed those slaves for some large scale project of his.

So, Amistad used trandoshan slavers to take slaves from across several systems, including Melida/Daan. The slaves were then hidden on the _Regal_ and transported to wherever Tarkin required them. The troopers on the _Regal_ kept their mouths shut on Amistad's orders. Or so he thought. Evidently, those two clones, C-41 and CTA-132 had managed to get a few to slip. Amistad would have to correct their tongues.

* * *

CTA-132 strode to the desk in his quarters on the _Regal_. Taking his long range comlink, he activated a private signal, one slaved directly to governor Tarkin's own. For a few seconds, there was static. Then CTA-132 heard Tarkin's clear voice.

"Tarkin here."

"Governor, this is CTA-132."CTA-132 waited for a moment. "I'm calling to confirm that you still wish for us to continue searching for Jedi Semreh Kassen and his companion."

Pause. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Because you just delayed our search three months looking for evidence we are not going to present to the Emperor to put a traitor in jail. It makes no sense."

"Do you not know where the Jedi is?"

"Actually, we do. His datapad is connected to the Jedi Temple via the Holonet. We've been tracking him through that." CTA-132 felt anger entering his voice, and let it show. "But that's not the point. I want to know why this boy is so important. Why this one padawan is a target worthy of us?"

Then, Tarkin told him. And CTA-132, clone assassin, murderous killer, and soldier listened intently. Tarkin claimed that his knowledge of the boy came from records in the Temple, records that would not show up even if CTA-132 hacked the Holonet as they'd done numerous times. Records that Tarkin had been sure to keep out of the Emperor's hands. Records about Semreh specifically. When CTA-132 heard the story, even he felt nervous. He couldn't claim to understand the Force, but he knew that what he was being told was dangerous.

"I would like the boy taken alive, if possible." Tarkin explained. "And brought to me."

"As you will governor." CTA-132, his decision now firmed, snapped the comlink off. Alive or dead, Semreh would be theirs. If only because Tarkin ordered it.

* * *

Tarkin shut his comlink off with a sigh. He was playing a dangerous game, going behind Palpatine's back like this. And Palpatine knew it too. Tarkin was almost certain. The old Emperor was surely sending out his own agents to hunt Semreh down, along with the rest of the Jedi. Who knew how many? Tarkin just had to trust that CTA-132 and C-41 had a great enough head start to win that race.

Tarkin leaned back in his chair, remembering how he ordered a group of clones to bring him the special documents from deep in the Jedi archives. He had the clones executed, then went over the records himself. What he'd found had startled and amazed him. And worried him. He knew if either Palpatine or Vader ever got their hands on that particular piece of data, and realized what it could be used for, they wouldn't need an Imperial army.

Tarkin couldn't allow that. He would need to get to Semreh before they did, or everything they'd worked to establish in the New Order would be destroyed. He needed to scheme carefully, lest he overplay his hand and force the Emperor to take more direct action. For now, the Emperor kept him around because he got results. The enslavement of Kashyyyk for the building of the Death Star had solidified his status as an indispensible asset of the Empire. As long as he continued to get results, the Emperor would allow him to live.

That is, until they discovered Tarkin's scheming. And unfortunately, scheming was Palpatine's specialty.

**_All right. I hope you all keep reading and reviewing. Thanks to everyone that stuck with me!_**


	60. Chapter 60 Muster

**_Okay, so here is chapter 60. As I'm sure you guys guessed, thic chapter, the last one, and the next couple were once one super long one. So, I shortened it._**

**_Also, I asking for your input once again; What characters backstory would you like to see fleshed out? I'm doing another flashback scene._**

C-41 was busy cleaning his weapons when CTA-132 stormed into the room. "We've found the Jedi."

"Well that's good." C-41 stared down the iron sight of his rifle. "Where?"

"Somewhere near Zehava, on Melida/Daan."

"How oddly convenient." C-41 mused. "They're in the same city as the mercs and Jenna. Almost makes me believe in the Force." C-41 stood up, and began strapping weapons and armor on. "Should I go get the mercs moving? I can be on a shuttle in ten minutes. Planetside in twenty."

CTA-132, as if distracted, nodded. "Do it. I'll meet you down there."

C-41 looked at his fellow clone a little sideways. The assassin was acting weirder than normal. Still, C-41 expected that. Turning, he left for the hanger, already imagining the type of chaos they'd have to make to get the little padawans to come out.

* * *

Jenna sat on a couch, cradling her head in her hands. The kids were asleep, each of them curled up under blankets and snuggled together. Jasper in particular was softly snoring while leaning against a wall. His face was largely healed by now, and hopefully not too many of the cuts would scar.

Her room was relatively small, but comfortable. A cot was spread in the middle of the room, and besides that was crammed a table and chairs for her to work. So far, the mercs had not ordered her to make any more explosives. Still, they'd recruited her for her knowledge of chemicals, so it was only a matter of time.

Jenna just didn't know what to do. She didn't want to kill anymore. Those were innocent people, and each time her bombs tore them apart, a little part of her soul died. Everytime she failed to stand up to those men, she killed another mother, father, or child. However, the other option was to watch the kids she'd sworn to take care of be skinned alive before her very eyes.

That clone, C-41, had promised to take care of them. To protect them. But who was to say clones didn't lie. They'd certainly killed easily enough in the past. And if it came down to his orders and the kids lives, Jenna didn't doubt which he would choose.

A loud knock caught Jenna's attention. She turned as the door to their room creaked open, and Gerik and C-41 clomped in. The two were obviously not best friends, but business partners. That was the way the cynical world of black ops worked. There was no time for bonds of brotherhood. However, Gerik seemed particularly suspicious of the clone today. He wore his twin knuckle duster knives in the open on his belt beneath his baggy clothes. C-41, in contrast, wore his deep green dress uniform flat and immaculate. He too was armed, but if he was suspicious of his partner, he certainly hid it better.

"All right Jenna, time to earn your rent." Gerik tossed her a bag heavy with chemicals and supplies for bomb making. "We need three bombs, each large enough to catch some serious attention."

Jenna looked into the back. There was certainly plenty of detonite and blasting jelly there. Easily enough to take down a city block. It was all raw materials, including detonators and timers, but Jenna could turn these into a bomb with her eyes closed. Jenna shuddered, thinking about what type of damage this would do.

"Make them remote activated." Gerik ordered, turning to leave. "We'll give the Jedi some time to look before we blow them sky high. With luck, said Jedi will be caught in the explosion." He flashed a grin at C-41, then left. C-41 waited till Gerik was out of earshot, then turned to leave.

C-41 stood for a second, wishing he had a helmet on so he didn't have to look the girl in the eyes. "I'm sorry." He murmured, turning to go. "Truly, I am." He shut the door behind him with a small bang.

Jenna went to work, dividing the chemicals into three separate piles. By combining the chemicals in special ways, she could, in theory, create a massive explosion for less amount of detonite. Instead, Jenna took large packets of metal balls called shrap and attached them to the explosives. It would be less fiery, but the explosion would send those durasteel balls in every direction at speeds that would send it through several people at once. A massive fragmentation grenade. Less explosives, more chaos. Just what the mercs wanted.

Sighing, Jenna looked at the instruments of death she was creating. Back in the university, she'd never imagined she would find herself here. She'd studied chemistry to help save lives, not end them. The fact was that Jenna was already as good as dead, and she knew it.

Suddenly, Jenna was struck by an idea. Taking a piece of flimsiplast, she spread it out before her. She wrote a small message on the paper.

"_Help! Held hostage by mercenaries conducting terror attacks."_

She quickly added descriptions of the surrounding buildings and streets she could see from her window.

Jenna then took one of her sharper tools and hid the small fire proof note in the mechanics of the bomb. Hopefully, somebody would get her message, even amongst the fire of the bomb. Of course, this was just a desperate move from a girl in dire straits. Even if someone got the message, what would become of her and the children?

Packing the first bomb up and storing it within the small plasteel containers Gerik had left for her, she carefully began assembling the rest of them.

* * *

"All right gentlemen." The holographic image of Bren stood at parade stance amongst all the leaders of the Commonality and the Jedi Alliance. "It's time for our counter attack against the Empire."

Semreh leaned against the wall of the briefing room deep within the Chaser base. He hoped Bren would hurry with his briefing on their counter attack against the Empire. Something other than small raids anyways. A powerful strike that could give them a decisive edge in the coming war. However, their planning needed to be quick. The Empire was, for whatever reason, sending reinforcements to their fleet above Melida/Daan. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before the Imperials realized the garrison they were receiving reports from was in fact a Chaser Intelligence team.

Bren waved to someone off screen, and another small holo appeared next to him.

It was of a small starfighter. Painted matte black, it had a pair of heavy blaster cannons on it at the tip of a pair of slanted back wings. It was shaped like an arrowhead from above, with a razor thin nose and a raised tail that seemed to hold the bulk of the tech. Its wings were slicked back and down, giving it a streamlined appearance. Underneath these was slung a pair of blaster cannons.

"These are our new _Shadowcat_-starfighters. Designed to be extraordinarily maneuverable and stealthy, our Vorzyd V friends have been producing these for quite some time. Enough to start filling Commonality ships with them."

"Your design Bren?" Semreh asked, admiration in his voice as he leaned in for a better look.

"Yes." Bren made another gesture, and the holo of the _Shadowcats_ seemed to zoom out, and showed a full squadron of them approaching a holo representation of an orbiting space station. Docked at the space station was the massive _Fenrir_ ship, with its heavy rear engines and long cylindrical gun.

"The _Fenrir _is a new Imperial ship killer, designed to be a fast moving attack frigate." Bren paused, pointing at the slowly rotating representation of the ship. "As you all have probably guessed, various military arms manufacturers and shipbuilders have been vying for Imperial contracts since the war ended. According to our contacts, the _Fenrir _was designed by Sienar Fleet Systems."

"I thought the Imperials designed the ship?" Captain Templeton said, looking confused at Fless.

"Sienar Fleet Systems designed it using a grant from the Imperial government." Fless explained, shifting uncomfortably. "The Empire has also taken responsibility for its security."

"It's true." Bren agreed. "That's where most ship designers and engineers get their grants. In this case, the Sienar Fleet Systems is trying to edge away from the Tie series and create capital ships, in an attempt to undermine their rivals, Kuat Shipyards."

"Hence the lack of the triangular shape we see with most Imperial ships." Semreh nodded. All this politicking made sense. "So, the ships being designed are a new form of ship; a replacement for the Imperial Star Destroyers."

"Perhaps not a replacement." Templeton mused, pointing at the rear of the holographic Fenrir. "The chief strength of the Imperial Star Destroyers is also its weakness; its size."

"Ships that massive are hard to maintain for long periods of space battle." Bren added. "They may be great for subjugating planets, but the Empire really needs more small, light ships that can deal damage against pirates and rebel groups like our raiding parties."

Bren waited for any further interruptions before continuing. "We'll use the new _Shadowcats_, along with a small taskforce of Commonality ships, to engage the space station where the plans and prototype are being kept. Sami and Ranger Commandos will board the station and take the command center while a ground force of troopers under Bolt takes the planet side research center and blows it sky high."

Sami, standing shoulder to shoulder with Nield, stepped forward. "I can have fifty troopers ready in three hours. Full gear and combat. Just give the word."

"Now hold on." Semreh stepped forward, looking at Bren. "I want to know how you intend to get those troopers of Bolt's on the ground. A ground based facility is sure to have heavy defenses."

Bren stepped aside, letting Bolt step into the image. He gave off the usual sense of not caring about the world around him, but he looked even paler than usual. "I've been training an airborne unit for special insertion. High Altitude Insertion Unit from a cruiser. They'll land, secure the enemy's anti-starfighter defenses, capital ship defenses, and set the charges before extraction."

Semreh nodded. "So, how exactly are these troopers landing? If the enemy has such tight defenses, they are bound to have anti-starfighter and anti-capital ship defenses."

"That's a surprise." Bolt grinned, but even that seemed to be devoid of emotion. Leaning slightly on his left leg he stepped aside. The holocam on the other side shifted, and Bren appeared again.

"The Commonality has sent a task force. The _Shadowcats_ don't have hyperdrives, so we'll use a Saboath cruiser escorted by two _Invincible_-class cruisers. The task force will exit hyperspace on the edge of the enemy's sensor range and deploy stealth fighters. The Shadowcats will move in and wait until the rest of the task force is ready to jump, then they will simultaneously attack."

The holo showed a simulation of Shadowcats swooping across the space station and strafing it with their blasters and destroying docked Tie fighters. At the same time, a Saboath cruiser and its escorts jumped into view, their turbolasers pounding the stations shields.

"Once the stations particle and energy shields are down, the cruisers will start shuttling commandos across and securing the station, and Bolt's airborne troops will deploy." Bren pointed and narrated the holovid as the simulation played out perfectly. "Hopefully, we will have secured both the space station and the ground research facility before they can get a distress call out."

"Shock and awe." Niled suggested. "A good plan, but one doomed to fail if the Empire isn't distracted enough to not send reinforcements." He turned to Daichi. "What system is the Fenrir project located?"

"Just past the Tione cluster in the Nevana system." Daichi ran his hand through his hair, a habit he did when thinking deeply. "Our contacts say the nearest Imperial force is the Sector military station on the planet Tion."

"What if the Moff in charge were to disappear?" Nield looked at Fless. The wiry Chaser grinned.

"Sten and I could arrange that."

"And distract Imperial command." Captain Templeton nodded. "The Melida/Daan fleet will stay here, to help maintain the illusion that we had nothing to do with this."

"So who will command?" Nield looked at the Prime Minister of the Commonality.

The old man snorted. "I'm no soldier." He said. "I'll be needed here to help present the image that the Commonality is a neutral and law abiding system." He glanced at Semreh. "Remember, it has to be a bunch of rouge Jedi pirates."

"The task force already has its new paint job." Bren assured. "We went with the brown look. They just look like a bunch of asteroids floating with the rest of the rocks. Add to that the snsor scrambling metals within the asteroids surrounding them, and the entire Lantern fleet could be damn near invisible."

"Yes, but a Jedi will have to command to sell the deception." Nield looked at the padawans, concern on his face. "It's inevitable that the survivors will tell Imperial command."

I'll command." Halber interrupted, stepping forward.

"A child?" Kalasaad Wotzu murmured uncertainly. "A padawan?"

"I've served in the Clone Wars." Halber argued, crossing his arms. "I may not be an admiral, but I'm sure I can coordinate this."

"No." Semreh said determinedly. "I'll lead it. Elena and I can handle it. She can lead the ground assault while I coordinate the air assault."

"I'll take Elena, but you and Scout should stay here in case something happens. If the attack fails, we don't want every Jedi we have killed." Halber nodded at Kalasaad Wotzu, ignoring Semreh's glare. "Who will command the Commonality fleets?"

"A Hrakian named Drex Oodian. He's good, good enough to have kept the Commonality free of the Seps during the Clone Wars." The prime minister looked at Bren. "After the task force leaves, I'll start moving Commonality ships to the Lantern. We'll be ready to officially start fighting the Empire soon after."

"And Melida/Daan will be the battlefield." Nield looked at Sami, who nodded.

"Zehava is ready. We've got powerful shield generators that will propel any aerial bombardment in place throughout the city. Local militias have also been notified to rally there at the first time of trouble." Sami blew a stray strand of hair out her eyes, a wry grin on her face. "We'll dig our heels in, and if the Empire wants to come and take us, they'll have to really get their hands dirty."

"We can deploy several million front line soldiers, but they'll be green." Nield tilted his head at the Jedi. "It won't be like the clones, who were both well equipped and the best trained." He paused, looking carefully at the men and women around the briefing room. "Still, I think we can bog them down pretty well."

"Something they can't afford to do right now." Elena said, glancing at Nield. "But politically, the Empire also can't let even one planet leave. That would create a flood of planets all running to join our alliance and soon, it would be an avalanche that will overwhelm the Empire."

"And more Jedi would join us." Scout added. "Hopefully, an experienced Master who could lead us. Like Master Kenobi or Yoda."

"Right." Semreh didn't look hopeful. The last masters they'd met had died literally less than a day after meeting him. Still, he didn't want to lead this rebellion any longer than he had to. The sooner a master took over, the better.

"So, Halber and Elena will command the task force and capture the _Fenrir_ while Semreh stays here with Scout and waits for Master Yasuo to arrive with the Commonality's ground forces." Prime Minister Wotzu looked at them all. "Almost all the planets of the Commonality have sent contingents. Hrakians and Humans are supplying ground and infantry forces, while the Vorzydiaks and Selonians are supplying crews and Paiguns are supplying ships using their shipyards."

"They won't be on the front lines?"

The Prime Minister frowned, stroking his graying beard. "They'll be supporting us in materials. Their world is naturally stormy, and they've learned siphon the energy from the lightning to power their shipyards. They've been punching out ships and machinery like there's no tomorrow." He cocked his head thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, if we don't win there may not be a tomorrow."

This drew some quiet laughs and chuckles from the room.

"Right." Bren murmured, rubbing his hands together. "I'll join the Commonality ground forces along with my mercenaries. I am a ground commander after all." He smiled with a shrug.

"I'll be there as your second." Sonya seemed to stiffen and her voice got very formal. "Someone will have to watch your back with Bolt off on his little mission."

"We'll need every soldier, every pilot, every man we can get." Scout looked them all over, smiling proudly. "Once every ship we have his securely disguised, send them to Melida/Daan and, when we're ready, we'll grab the Empire by the belt and kick them in the shins."

There were murmurs of agreement and nodding. Sami even gave an enthusiastic "Ura!" before clicking her heels together and filing out of the room with Nield and the Chasers. The holograms around the padawans flickered and shut off. Once again, they were alone.

**_Next one soon. Currently holding breathe in anticipation._**


	61. Chapter 61 Teaching Through Hate

**_Short one today. Will update tommorrow._**

With the planet leaders and generals gone, the Jedi padawans gathered together, saying their goodbyes.

"You think you can handle this?" Semreh asked Halber. The big Jedi gave a shrug and a crooked grin.

"Can't be worse than the Clone Wars. Besides, I'm sure Fless and Sten will want you for whatever operation they've got cooked up." He turned to Scout. "And I'm sure that your master will want you here to greet him and his warriors when he arrives."

She nodded. "Of course, but what if this plan fails and you or Elena are captured."

Elena and Halber exchanged quick glances. The kind of looks from old warriors.

"If this plan fails," Elena smiled sadly, "I can assure you that we won't be captured."

Scout winced inwardly while Semreh shook his head sympathetically. She was smart, but she was a few years younger than him and still didn't understand some of the grittier parts of battle. Jedi didn't let themselves get captured. Especially when capture meant torture at the hands of the Sith or Corpse Corp.

"Don't worry; the plan won't fail." Halber smiled good-naturedly and patted her on the arm. "Don't let Elena scare you. She just has a really poor sense of humor."

"I'll bet." Semreh clapping Halber on the shoulder. "When are you leaving?"

"Tonight, as soon as the Chasers can spare a shuttle. We'll get to the Lantern in a day or two, then go with the task force and capture the _Fenrir_. When we get back, hopefully Nield will have convinced the Council, and the Jedi Alliance will have a new flagship."

* * *

Seth was walking about Vader's private meditation chamber, testing the feel of his armor. It was the same as before, but at the same time different. Still jet black and made of a finely woven metal mesh, it was flexible and gave him a free range of motion. However, the armor around his hips, shoulders, and chest was of a different type. Cortosis he thought, but hoped he wouldn't have to test it.

He still had the belt for supplies and weapons, but now it was decorated with four lightsabers he had taken from the Jedi. Not that he needed to use them, but they were just so useful for cutting through walls.

He was moving through the tiers of Echani combat when he heard the door to Vader's private chamber hiss open. Quickly, Seth threw a cloak of the Force over him, shielding his presence from Vader, and hid. In walked Vader, accompanied by a young boy. The child looked young, certainly not a teenager. He walked in Vader's towering shadow, his steps timid and unsure.

Vader swept into the room, his Force signature unsure and worried. He ordered the young boy to sit down, pointing at a small corner of the room. When the boy hesitated, Vader waved his hand lazily, and the boy flew off his feet, landing with a heavy clang as his head smacked against the wall.

Seth grimaced silently. Was Vader going to maul the tiny creature? Were Sith truly that senselessly violent?

Seth never figured out why he did what he did next, but he stepped out, clearing his voice loudly. In the Force, he dropped his cloak, letting Vader feel his open and harmless presence. Vader turned as if stunned and looked like he may strangle Seth right there. His master's orders must have stayed his hand though, and he stopped, merely jerking his head towards the exit.

Seth followed silently, even when Vader simply stood there fuming once they got outside. For a long while, neither of them said anything. Then Seth asked. "Who's the kid?"

Vader said nothing.

"Any reason you threw him against a wall?"

"Hatred is the basis of power." Vader murmured, as if listening to a distant voice. "The greater hatred, the greater power."

"Interesting philosophy. You would have made a great dad."

For a moment, Vader's Force presence was filled with so much rage and anguish that Seth thought the monster could have incinerated him with just a wave of his black gloved hand. Then it subsided, clamped down by an iron discipline.

"I'm good at bringing out a pupils real potential. To have hatred, he needs something to hate."

"Ah," Seth exclaimed in sudden realization. "The classic Sith dilemma. You'll use the kid to overthrow your master."

Vader paused. "Eventually."

"So, why would you tell me, knowing that I could inform the Emperor?"

For a moment, Seth felt as though, behind the dark bug eye mask, Vader was just staring. Then images suddenly flashed through Seth's mind. Seth lying with a broken neck. Seth in pieces, victim to a murderer's mindless hacking. Seth beheaded. Seth skewered. Seth stabbed, beaten. Dead.

As the images ended, Seth bent over, gasping and dry heaving for a moment.

"No." Vader murmured, stepping past the kneeling assassin. "I don't think you will."

Vader looked like he was going to reenter his chamber, but stopped. "The Emperor is sending you to Melida/Daan. A Jedi padawan named Semreh Kassen is there. The Emperor wants him alive."

Seth struggled to his feet woozy, but still defiantly angry. "I don't really do alive."

"That's too bad." Vader raised a threatening hand again, and Seth winced. He could feel his muscles contracting at Vader's command, spasming and pulling his tendons. Seth gasped as he fell to his knees.

"Now, can you do alive?" Vader raised his hand again and Seth blanched before nodding. "Good."

* * *

Semreh watched the lights of his friend's shuttle burn as it pushed through the atmosphere. Force willing, he'd see them all again. Also onboard were Sami and her team of commandos. Hopefully, enough firepower to take the down the space station. They also had several security experts with them to help them crack the _Fenrir's_ no doubt tight security.

Surrounding the shuttle was the remains of Bravo Squadron. They'd lost two of their pilots in their escape from Naboo, but the rest remained firmly in support of the Jedi and the Rebellion. Semreh honestly didn't know why. It's true that Semreh was technically an adult at eighteen, but he felt as though someone else should be in charge. And sending his fellow young padawans to fight without him…It just felt wrong.

Semreh turned, returning to the Chaser base. Everyone was busy. Nield had ordered the base sealed. All entrances to the underground structure were planted with explosives, even the hanger doors. Not that they'd all be trapped here. Though the entrances to the surface would be blocked off, there were tunnels in the sewer that could be used to transport supplies right from the city. Nield himself vouched for the idea, saying that he knew the sewers well from his childhood.

So, trapped beneath thousands of tons of stone and earth, the Nield and his Chasers finished their preparations. There were eight planetary shield generators, each located in a major Melida/Daan city. The idea was that the interlocking shields would cover a greater area, preventing the Imperial navy from just blasting the rebels off the planet or inserting troops right on top of them. With all eight shields activated, the protected space covered a substantial area; at least half the northern hemisphere and a quarter of the southern.

Of course, the Imperials could always land ground troops in one of the unshielded portions of the planet and move beneath the umbrella-like shields. If the Imperial ground forces managed to disable the shields, the area of the shield would decrease. Therefore, Nield had already put his Chasers and various other groups he controlled (directly and indirectly) to work preparing weapons and fortifications. They even had begun converting some of the older sewers into bomb shelters. All done very subtly of course.

Militia soldiers however, were not mobilizing. Without permission from the Council, none of Melida/Daan's millions of volunteer soldiers could begin arming themselves. Though they were ill-trained, the fact was that numbers could hold the Empire if need be. The Empire, having to control a large area of the galaxy with a comparatively small force, relied on lightning tactics and overwhelming firepower to devastate the enemy.

However, Nield and Sami had carefully thought out their preparations to counteract this advantage and bog the Empire down long enough for the tide to turn.

Now preparations were almost complete. Semreh felt as though, if the Melida/Daan could just hold the Empire, or make them pay, then more systems would join them, sending reinforcements and support. It would become and avalanche that would engulf the Empire, overwhelming it. Someday, the Empire would fall. And Melida/Daan would be the first chink in its armor.

**_Updating tommorrow_**


	62. Chapter 62 Shriekhawks

_**Yes, these are short Chapters. Unfortunatley, it's hard to connect them.**_

_Two months ago_

"Gentlemen," Bolt said, clasping his hands behind his back as he stood before a phalanx of men, "You are all the about to become an elite force of rapid insertion troops." He jerked his head towards sets of heavy equipment to his left. It looked like it was sets of heavy armor, but it was far too large to do anything more than walking.

"These are your new fully pressurized atmospheric entry suits." Bolt explained, nudging one with his toe. "They have their own cooling unit and a supply of oxygen that will keep you alive as you hurtle through space."

"Hurtle through space?" One of the men asked, suddenly sounding unsure.

"That's right dumbasses. You volunteered for this. Congrats."

The men exchanged looks, some of excitement, some of fear. After volunteering, they'd just been told that they'd have the option to be a part of an elite task force and put through a rigorous physical exam. Those that passed, about seventy five, were now standing before Bolt.

"These suits are made with several very thick and dense inches of durasteel, with a cooling unit that pumps constantly rotating cold water, keeping you from being boiled alive. Well," He said, grinning after a moment of thought. "Most of you. We still haven't worked out all the kinks."

"Now, we'll be splitting you up into platoons of twenty-five, which will in turn be split into squads of five." Bolt picked up a weapon with one hand, hefting it along the short stock and barrel. "This is the DC-Assault Carbine. You have two rates of fire; single and "cut through durasteel". Basically," He added, eying the thing affectionately, "It's your basic infantry weapon. It's also extraordinarily sturdy, as it will probably have to survive a fall from space."

"Okay." Bolt said, jerking his head towards the suits being brought in on gravsleds. "Your first space walk in these babies is in twelve minutes. Happy flying." He grinned.

_Two months later_

Bolt assembled the various troopers of his personal battalion. Bren had ordered him to create a fast moving attack force that could deploy and fight anywhere, anytime. And he had obliged. The Shriekhawks were some of the finest soldiers he'd ever trained. They were zero-g soldiers, paratroopers, commandos, shock troops, and everything in between. Clad in matte black armor that covered most of their body. The armor was light enough to allow movement, but heavy enough to keep a trooper alive if hit by a blaster bolt. It was, however, not a replacement for the self sealed suit that protercted them from reentry into an atmosphere.

On the shoulder pads of the armor, the insignia of their namesake, the Shriekhawk, was burnt onto it. Known as the jai'galaar in Mando'a, the bird was most notable for its disturbing hunting shriek. In fact, Mandalorian tradition had created the Jaig eyes, a sigil of honor and courage. The stylized eye symbols of the hawk were painted on the helmets of Mando soldiers above the visor. The symbols had even made it into the Clone Army, brought by the Mandalorian mercenaries who trained the troopers. For Bolt, there was a small amount of happy irony about having his best soldiers fight the clones with their highest awards painted on their helmets.

The troopers gear only added to the intimidation. Rounded helmets covered their heads, more a deterrent of dust and sand than blaster bolts. The carefully designed visor had a clear mode and a reflector mode that protected their eyes from light and harsh rays of stars while they were EV (Extra Vehicular). However, compared to the high tech Republic and Imperial helmets, the Shriekhawks were little more than a few centimeters of reinforced durasteel.

Their armor was also low tech. Bolt held the opinion that low tech made for less complications. After all, the armor still did its job, even without all the flashing lights of the Clone Commando armor. Over basic fatigues, the Shriekhawk's fronts and backs were covered by two pieces of light durasteel connected by shoulder straps. Over that went the signature shoulder pads, with added protection to the upper torso. The arms had little armor, but the elbows, upper arms, wrists, and hands all had some type of durasteel backed plating that still gave them excellent mobility.

Their gear varied from soldier to soldier, but Bolt had managed to ensure that most of the men carried the DC-AR. Though a long barreled rifle, most of the men had either cut the barrel down to the size of a carbine, or used the extra space to add attachments slung underneath it. In addition to their mainstay weapons, all soldiers carried specialized gear, whether it was parts of an E-Web repeater, a missile launcher, or other specialized weaponry. When dropping into a hot spot, the troopers would only carry their DC-ARs, while the rest of the supplies would be precision dropped using separate canisters.

As his soldiers quickly filed into the room, Bolt surveyed them coldly, dispassionately. Was he proud of them? Maybe. However, he had also learned long ago that emotion had no place on the battlefield. A soldier followed orders, and nothing else. While Bren may have had some moral compass guiding him, Bolt preferred to keep things nice and black and white. There were around fifty. The platoon had lost about twenty-five to various mishaps during their intense training. Acceptable losses, considering the squad he had created in a mere two months.

"Gentlemen." Bolt announced his hands on the heavy assault rifle slung over his shoulder. "This is it. All that's left is my graduation speech."

The troopers, to a man, exchanged grimaces. Bolt was not known for his subtle speeches. In general, they consisted of him screaming spittle into their faces until they remembered to drop when they heard blaster fire.

"The truth is that, in all likelihood, every one of you will die before war ends for you." He shrugged when his men's dismal reactions became clear. "Sorry, but that's part of being the best. The truth is that, unless you men accept that you are already dead, you will die. You need to accept that your lives are buffers against the Empire. You will be given impossible missions, and expected to perform them. To succeed. To win."

"Gentlemen." Bolt said slowly, with finality. "We are all dead men. From the moment you are born, you are dying. Every second brings you closer, and nothing can delay it. In short," He said with finality, "You men, through your actions, have a chance to live on through your actions. Only the best are remembered. Be the best. Be remembered."

With that, Bolt saluted his men. The returned it respectfully, though not enthusiastically, snapping their heels as they stood to attention. Bolt had, for lack of a better word, been cruel. If they didn't hate the Empire so much, they'd probably have dropped out long before "graduation". The twenty five washouts, as Bolt called them, had been killed in failed jumps, zero vacuum training missions, and basic training. Three had been personally killed by Bolt during a sparring match. Bolt had executed another for refusing to jump during their first surface drop. Bolt had shot him through his helmet, letting air vent out while he suffocated. In short, there was no love lost between the troopers and their commander.

"All right." Bolt shook his head. "Dismissed."


	63. Chapter 63 Mystery of Bolt

_Two Days later_

Captain Spears was an excellent soldier. In the squads mottled green jumpsuits, he looked like one of the other fifty troopers. But he was not.

Unlike many of the other troopers, many of whom had fought against the Republic, Spears had fought for them. And before the war too. He was one of the Antarian Rangers, a military group of commandos founded by the Jedi centuries ago.

In order to help the few Jedi deal with their overwhelming problems, Jedi Master Marus Timpel and business man Gotal Kaskutal had founded the unit. Scattering across the Republic, they'd helped the Jedi enforce justice and law for centuries, often acting as its unofficial vigilante force.

During the Clone Wars, Spears and the rest of the Antarian Rangers had acted as scouts, spies, and leaders of clone contingents that lacked Jedi. They'd fought hard, inflicting precise and deadly attacks on enemy forces behind they're lines. They'd been good. Apparently too good.

When Order 66 had been initiated, Palpatine had obviously considered the Antarian Rangers a threat to his regime equal to the Jedi. Many had been hunted down, but some like Spears had gone into hiding. When he'd heard that a group of Jedi was planning to make a stand, he'd hurried to volunteer.

Bolt's training had been intense, but Spears saw results everyday he worked with his squad. The four men he led were skilled, each of them having been afflicted by the Empire in some way. They were driven by wrath and rage. Every man. Bolt was the only man who could control them. Because as much as they hated the Empire, they feared Bolt more.

"He ain't human." Their human heavy weapon specialist Garner murmured as he to stock of their explosive ordnances. "He's too pale."

"Excuse me?" Bebop snapped. He was also a human, but had red curly hair and freckles covering his face. "I'm pretty pale."

"Yeah, but you also eat. I haven't ever seen Bolt eat before." Garner shot back, now scratching his scraggly beard thoughtfully. "Not one bit."

"Maybe he eats privately." Hylo suggested, cleaning his long barreled K-19 sniper rifle. He was a Mirialan, a humanoid green skinned species. Like many of his species, he was deeply religious and had a geometric pattern tattooed along his chin; a sign that he'd completed a certain amount of holy deeds.

He had once, as a young member of his species, met his fellow Mirialan, Jedi Master Luminara, and had been enamored by her commitment to justice. Combine that with the brutal Imperial crackdown on his planet, and Hylo had become a fervent enemy of the Empire from the tip of his spiky brown hair to the tip of his laced up military boots.

"He doesn't seem remarkably social." He added with a grimace, looking at the retreating back of their commander.

"Still, have you noticed he's gotten paler as the months have gone on?" Garner suggested, ignoring Hylo. "I'm telling you that there is something very not human about him."

Privately, Spears agreed with Garner; a hard idea to swallow in and of itself. Garner was unshaven and unkempt, letting his hair grow every which way and fall behind him in a thick set of black dreadlocks. A native of Alderaan, he and his compatriots were probably the exception to Alderaan's flaunted pacifism. He was a member of the Justice Action Network, or JAN. They were a terror group devoted to bringing the Empire to its knees by any means necessary. Their devotion neared fanaticism, creating a problem for more moderate allies.

However, they were one of the first to send volunteers and set up safe routes for soldiers of the Jedi Alliance. More importantly, they had excellent access to communications. To spread acts of resistance, Jan used virastack news files, which were notorious for appearing in the middle of military training tapes, holoshows and swoop bike races. This ease of access for communication made JAN the Jedi Alliances chief source of information.

Garner had been sent to the Jedi Alliance after a botched mission broke his cover to Imperial authorities. He was supposed to blow up an important hover rail line, but Imperial security caught him and added him to their lists of threats. Though he was freed by his comrades, he could no longer walk safely on Alderaan. So, JAN had sent him here, to fight on the front lines. Not a great idea. Despite being an excellent saboteur and heavy weapons specialist, he was hardly a disciplined soldier.

Still, though the man may have been greasy as a monkey-lizard, he was right; there was something distinctly non-human about Bolt. He was about the same age as Spears, but was faster, stronger, smarter, and all around better than Spears had been even in his prime. And then there was the training incidents.

The three men who had died sparring with Bolt had not been separate cases. Bolt had, after hearing them boast about how tough they were and how they could "Beat the Sarge's kriffing face in", invited the three of them into the ring for a match. What's more, he'd given them their blasters, while he stayed unarmed. He'd broken one of their necks, another's shinbone before crushing his jugular, and finally strangled the last with his bare hands. It had not been a long fight.

The fact was that Bolt, wasn't even emotional about it. He wasn't angry, or happy, or even sad. He just killed them.

"Don't worry about it guys." Their final trooper, a Bothan named Kola Sandov. A luscious fur coat streaked with silver. Unlike most Bothans, she was not haunty or condescending. She had however inherited their skills at spy and communications work. "That commander Bren wouldn't put him in charge unless he trusted him."

There were murmurs of agreement from the circle, except for Garner, who merely glared at the furry trooper. In general, Bren was well thought of. He led from the front and had ensured that all his men were well equipped. In short, he was on their side.

As the troopers continued to ready themselves, Spears thought about the last couple days. After their "graduation", they'd been picked up from the Lantern by an _Invincible-_class cruiser. It was enormous, at least as long as a Star Destroyer. However, it was not nearly as advanced and didn't have the tonnage to go more than a few rounds with the Empire's cruisers.

However, in this case the ships heavy turbolasers and space for fighters would come in handy.

More importantly, it was the space from which the Shriekhawks would jump, falling from space into the planet's atmosphere. Once they landed, they would take out the enemy's heavy planetary guns, secure the research facility, and escape before enemy reinforcements could arrive.

They'd been in hyperspace for a few hours now, and still had a long ways to go before reaching their target. From what they'd seen at the fleet assembly point, they were a small task force of three _Sabaoth_ destroyers, a pair of smaller _Sabaoth_ frigates and a pair of _Invincible_-class cruisers. The Sabaoth's were loaded with the bulky _Sabaoth_ starfighters, while the _Invincible-_class cruisers were loaded with a different fighter Spears had never seen before. Whatever they were, they looked sleek, small, and deadly.

Bolt had warned them all that their task in the upcoming battle would be a hard one. Generally, the Shriekhawks were expected to be used for zero-g operations, like boarding ships. However, the use of their specialized suits top drop through the atmosphere at high speeds for rapid insertion is what made them special.

The ship they were on, the _Solar Chariot,_ was commanded by a skeleton crew, all of which would eject well before the _Shriekhawks_ jumped.

"_More proof that we're the dumbest men alive."_ Spears thought with amusement. "_Everyone else is going to the escape pods, we jump onto a planet."_

* * *

Gavin checked the systems of his _Shadowcat_ fighter. As the squad leader surveyed the new ship's highly advanced Verpine systems, he couldn't help but slowly fall in love with it. Its sensors were top notch, as was its state of the art stealth systems. It was fast, and had no small amount of firepower. Its shields were lacking, and it had no hyperdrive, meaning it was dependent of carrier ships. The worst part was its lack of life support system. This forced them to wear heavy suits that pumped air into their lungs and sealed off the vacuum of space. However, these were small prices to pay.

Gavin commed his squadron, all of which were waiting patiently for their ship, _Apt at Honor_, to exit hyperspace. The plan was to exit just outside of the bases sensor range. The orbital base, besides being protected by the ground based weapons, also had a _Victory_ class Star Destroyer waiting in orbit. While about as large as the Commonality's _Invincible_ –class cruisers, it easily outstripped them in firepower and starfighter capacity.

According to the task forces commander, Admiral Drex Oodian, had informed them that, all together, they had two squadrons of Sabaoth starfighters, one squadron of Headhunters in the other _Invincible_-class, and one squadron of _Shadowcats_. The single Star Destroyer could deploy two squadrons of the highly advanced Tie fighters. One on one, a _Shadowcat_ and a Tie were on equal terms. However, a Tie could easily out maneuver a Sabaoth and a Headhunter. However, both of those ships were also rather durable, probably able to outlast Ties with their shields.

"Commander." Natasha murmured into her comlink. "You good?"

"Very." Gavin grinned, as he activated his repulsor lifts, leading his squadron slowly towards the doors of the hanger. They would hover, waiting for Admiral Oodian to give the word. The plan was simple; exit hyperspace just outside their sensor range with a precision jump and launch the Shadowcats into space. The stealthy starfighters would then initiate a quick strike against the spacestation, bypassing both the Star Destroyer and its defenses.

The strike would be targeted at the power generating solar panels. Lack of power from these would significantly weaken the station's shields and shut down any computers, thus keeping the Imperials from purging any data. Then, the cruisers would jump in system and engage the Star Destroyer while a shuttle of Sami's Commandos, escorted by fighters, boarded the station.

Meanwhile, one of the Sabaoth Destroyers, the _Solar Chariot_, would feign a catastrophic explosion in the upper atmosphere of the planet. The _Shriekhawks_ would use the resulting debris as cover as they began their jump. Once they landed in the general area of the base, they would reform and attack the base from the ground, destroying the guns and capturing the ground research facility.

This was the most risky part of the operation. Unless the _Shriekhawks_ take the base before the ground facility can send a distress call, they would have Star Destroyers bearing down on them. They would also lose valuable intelligence regarding the construction of _Fenrir-class cruisers,_ which the Paigun shipyards would need to create a fleet of them.

They still had a few hours, but the mere thought of the jarring jerk from lightspeed, the feeling of dread that came with battle, all wrapped into a few moments made him sweat.


	64. Chapter 64 Opening Skirmish

**_I realize my chapters are getting a little skimpy. I am simply so busy with college and other things. But, I have a nice flashback planned, so look forward to it!_**

Tara hurried through the streets of downtown Zehava, her skinny body slipping between the crowds. It amazed her that the massive city had remained oblivious to the war brewing around it. Most seemed comfortable with the Empire, thought there was obvious discomfort and chaffing beneath their rule and taxes.

However, Tara saw signs of the coming conflict everywhere she looked. The lack of stormtroopers, the national army squads patrolling, etc, etc/ She even once saw a trio of work droids hard at work at the entrance to a subway tunnel. They were replacing the old wiry security gates with heavy durasteel and concrete doors.

"_Makeshift bomb shelters?"_ With the thousands of miles of tunnels beneath the city, it would be easy to hide a sizable portion of the population from attacks from above. Add in the massive shield generators that would umbrella the city above…It was obvious Nield was taking no chances.

Still, Tara couldn't help but feel, deep down, that all of this was a futile gesture of defiance; the proverbial middle finger before the execution. She had, in her travels, lost touch with much of the galaxy. What she did know was often second hand knowledge picked up in the various towns and cities she'd visited across the galaxy. The sudden idea that she and the rest of the Jedi could affect the destiny of an entire planet was strange to her. Terrifying in fact.

Worse, despite training with Master Jolon daily, she still couldn't seem to get a hold of her powers. True, they no longer exploded into random earthquakes and mudslides, but she felt as though a loss of control was always on the edge of her ability.

Jolon claimed that her powers, like all Force powers, were triggered by emotion and control. The fact that hers exploded when she was afraid was evidence. Sometimes, particularly when she was angry, Tara felt she could control them even better. That night on Naboo, she'd been furious at the Imperials. It had overrun all her fear, and given her focus enough to turn her powers into a weapon.

When she'd later suggested that anger was the key to controlling her powers, Semreh had objected sharply.

"No." He'd insisted. "You'll need to learn another way."

The training itself was her only solace. Jolon had her doing just about everything with the Force. They worked constantly on her telekinesis, particularly terrakinesis. He'd led her into the tunnels beneath Zehava, having her dig a massive passageway to help her train. So far, she'd moved many tons of dirt and solid stone, and created a tunnel at least forty feet down at a thirty degree angle.

Once, when they reached sheet rock, Jolon was forced to teach her a new technique.

"It's called Earth Manipulation." He'd explained, placing his hands on the solid stone wall in front of them. "The key is to imagine the rock, not as a solid object, but as a collection of very malleable molecules."

There was a small burst of Force energy and the rock around his hands seemed to melt. It did not grow hot, or even lose its characteristic hardness when Tara touched it. However, it seemed to flow from the stone like a segmented stone snake, gradually wrapping itself around Jolon's wrists and arms.

"As you can see, I am siphoning the stone away from the rock by guiding each molecule away."

"That must take a ton of concentration." She'd murmured in awe as the stone was sucked away.

"Yes, and control." He stepped back and waved her forward towards the solid rock. "I want you to try and replicate this. It will be good practice."

Tara had tried. She really had, but every time she did, she slipped and failed. The rock would move and bubble, but never flowed towards her.

Still, the Jolon had taught her much. She could accurately cut chunks of stone with the Force, shaping them into many things like chair or, when she needed help digging, jagged shovels controlled by the Force. Tara privately thought that it would come in handy later, when Semreh and the rest of the Jedi went to war.

See, Tara was nothing if not loyal, and Semreh had saved her from herself. Not only that, but he looked after her throughout her stay, always ensuring that she was well kept for. He had occasionally cheered her up after particularly draining sessions of training, taking her into Zehava to see the city. They'd run around the city, a couple of normal teenagers for moments at a time.

He'd even developed an interest in Flaunt, her favorite form of music. He claimed the rebellious teenage angst worked well for a bunch of young padawans getting ready to start an insurrection. Privately, Tara felt he just liked listening to it with her.

Over the months, the two of them had gradually established a powerful bond. Even Tara knew that Jedi were forbidden to love, but she felt Semreh was coming dangerously close. Though they were young, Tara also felt that she could return the sentiment and that she may, in fact, love him. At the same time, she wasn't sure. It was all very confusing to her, having lived most of her life in isolation and on the road. Still, when the time came and Semreh went to war, she knew she'd be besides him.

So, that was one reason she was heading through downtown Zehava today. She wanted to see if she could find the new music by one of her favorite Flaunt bands and download it to her datapad for Semreh. As Flaunt had been declared by the Empire to be dangerously rebellious, it was hard to find any copies of new music for sale. However, thanks to the wonders of the Holonet, it was relatively easy for people to illegally find the music. You just needed to know where to look.

For one thing, you couldn't use one of your own comlink or Holonet systems to download it. They were too easy to track. Instead, most fans of underground music used public comlink console booths, which connected to the Holonet in order to complete extraterrestrial communications. They were easy to use and access, plus it was virtually impossible to track who used them. So, Tara merely needed to connect her datapad with the public console, download the music, and be on her merry way.

She finally spotted a row of them along one of the ground speeder streets. All were taken, but one on the far end, which Tara hurried to take. She inserted the amount of credit chips indicated and accessed the console, connecting to the Holonet. The music she was looking for flashed on her screen as soon as she searched for it. A moment later, her datapad connected and was downloading the music.

Then, something caught her attention to her right. The comlink attached to the console was beeping steadily. At first, she tried to ignore it. Nobody knew she was here, so it couldn't be for her.

However, three minutes later the comlink continued beeping and flashing, growing more annoying by the second. Finally, she picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hello Tara."

Her heart leapt into her throat and Tara swallowed heavily. Her hand started to shake as she moved to hang up. Just before the receiver was about to click, she heard a faint, yet sharp "Don't." She stayed her hand, still shaking, before putting it back to her ear.

"You're that man from Naboo. The one who attacked us."

"Aww, you remember. That's nice." The man chuckled. Tara felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She reached into her pockets and drew her rough brown leather gloves out. She slipped the right one on, but paused as the man started to laugh again.

"Oh Tara, I thought we could be friends. Don't tell me you want to fight." Tara blanched. Wherever he was, he'd seen her. "Oh, you noticed. Yes, I can see you."

Tara continued, slipping her hands into the gloves and gathering a nexus of Force energy around her. "Yeah. So, what do you want?"

"Just to talk."

"Talk?"

"Talk." Tara shifted uncomfortably and reached for the door. "Oh, you're not leaving are you? I'd hate to have to kill people."

Tara paused. "What do you mean?"

"At this moment, I possess one of the rather rare high performance Lasersplicer Long Range Sniper Rifles." Tara's mind thought back to the Lasersplicer heavy repeater that Halber kept on a back strap. It was probably made by the same people. From what he'd seen of the repeater, it was of the highest quality.

"If you try to leave or cut this com call," the man explained, glee entering his tone. "I'll kill one of these poor innocent targets I've got lined up here."

Her hand stopped on the handle of the console booth. It jiggled with her hand. For Tara, a girl who had lived with freedom and independence her whole life, being trapped in this booth with a coldblooded murderer watching her was terrifying. Not that it wasn't terrifying for anyone.

"What will get me out of this?" Her she bit her bottom lip, keeping fear from her face. It wasn't working.

"I just want to talk."

So, they talked.

* * *

Semreh sat, deep in thought within the Chaser base. Sitting in his room, he was deep in a Force powered meditation. He allowed his mind to slip from his body, seeping into the walls, the dirt, and the water that surrounded his room. He could feel the sewer water flowing around in pipes embedded around him. He could sense various underground creatures crawling and burrowing, making their homes in the sewers around the base. Rats, moles, and little blind dirt otters. All of it circled around him.

Since training with Jolon though, Semreh saw more. He saw the molecules that separated each speck of dirt. The beating heart and energy of the dirt otter. He not only saw the life, but why it was there. The Jedi had taught him to feel for life, but Jolon had taught him to see more than a life. He saw the science behind it.

It was less soulful, less spiritual than the Jedi. But then the Jedi were mostly dead, and Semreh couldn't help but think that, if they'd seen the world as Jolon saw it, they might have seen this betrayal coming. Perhaps the Jedi, by trying to remove themselves from the plane of mere mortals, had blinded themselves. Perhaps-

Semreh's mind was jerked back to the present as the door behind him flung open and slammed into the wall with a loud smack. His eyes jerked open and his hand flew to his belt as her spun. It was Daichi.

"We have a problem." He said breathlessly.

* * *

Semreh watched as the message played before him. A woman was speaking rapidly and in a voice that made it obvious she'd rehearsed. She was a face one could easily overlook in a planet populated by humans. Long black hair was partially hidden behind her by a hood she wore. Yet, it didn't cover her face and her dark eyes were obviously terrified. Semreh didn't need the Force to tell him that.

"Afternoon Chasers." The woman said her voice steady and calm. "Hidden across your city are four high caliber explosives which we will detonate in one hour. Each of these weapons has the potential to destroy a substantial portion of your city, along with kill thousands of people." The woman leaned back, appearing as if she were in complete control. "Our terms are remarkably simple; we know your government agents are harboring fugitive Jedi. Hand them over, and nobody needs to die. Decline our generous offer and…" The girl forced a smile. "Well, we'll destroy your city."

The message snapped off, leaving the girl's face stamped onto Semreh's mind. While he sensed reluctance in her, he had no doubt about the validity of the threat. That meant only one thing.

"She's a pawn." He said, turning to Daichi.

The man nodded, standing at stiff attention before the hologram. "I've dispatched Chasers to various points in the city that have heavy traffic. They're searching everywhere, but it could take days to search every building and crossroad." He waved a hand towards some of the Chasers at work on the holoprojector. "We're trying to trace the call, but even that would only give us a few minutes to capture the terrorists before they detonate the explosives."

"So you can trace it?"

"Yes, but it will take at least 45 minutes, leaving fifteen to find them and stop them."

"Fifteen minutes is chump change for a Jedi." Semreh flashed a grin before reaching for his comlink. "I can grab a few Chasers and capture them in no time."

"Assuming they're not using a ghost feed and are even on planet." Daichi growled. "This is not time to run headlong into danger. Chasers succeed because they think things through and have a plan."

"Who needs a plan when you've got luck? Besides," Semreh continued nonchalantly. "The Force is telling me this is a good idea."

Daichi sat heavily, contemplatively staring at the holoprojector as his technicians worked frantically to trace the location of the terrorists. With his men out looking for the explosives, he had few to spend on a mission to capture the terrorists.

"Fine." Daichi answered finally. His hand went below his desk and withdrew, holding a silenced slugthrower pistol. "I'll go with you though. Most of the other Chasers are already deployed, and I can't deploy anymore without leaving our base virtually defenseless."

"What about the Rangers?"

"Deployed." Daichi explained. "Either with the task force or in the countryside. Besides," He grinned, "Zehava is Shield Chaser territory. We'll defend it."

"So where is Nield?"

"With the Council, trying to keep them calm."

Semreh winced. "I'm guessing they're a little annoyed that he lied."

"They're pissed." The usual professional Daichi chewed his lip, concern plastered across her face. "It's a delicate situation. Half want to have him removed with the National Army, and the other half have realized that these bounty hunters are proof that the Empire will attack."

"A deadlock. Perfect." Semreh grinned slyly. "We need to act now. Send a message to the Empire that we won't accept these terror tactics while the Melida/Daan Council is paralyzed. Can you send messages to our allies?"

Daichi nodded. "The Lantern?"

"Yeah. Have them all assemble there. Every ship, soldier, and fleet we can convince."

"Sure." Now Daichi hesitated. "What about Scout?"

Semreh was busy belting on a blaster to his waist and throwing on a heavy sweatshirt to conceal his weaponry. "What about her?"

"Should we tell her what's going on?"

Semreh paused, mulling the idea over in his head. "No." he finally said, following a harried Daichi through the nearby door to the outside of the Chaser base. "We'll leave a message warning her, but I don't want her out there where she'll be a target."

"Of course." Dachi looked grim as they headed for the motor pool. There were several landspeeders fueled and waiting, like always. Before getting in, Daichi paused and looked at Semreh. "You know this is a trap. Right?"

"Of course." He smiled back at the grim Chaser. "In the end, everything's a trap."

* * *

The assassin talked. And talked. And Tara listened. For a long time, she listened.

"I see you still don't possess the discipline to control your powers." He mused. Tara could practically see him tilting his head behind the scope of a sniper rifle. "I thought for sure the old man would have helped you by now."

She gritted her teeth. He was right of course. No matter how much she tried, she could not seem to clamp down on her powers.

Then, the significance of what he said hit her. He knew about Jolon. He knew about her training. That meant…

"You've been watching us."

The man laughed, his voice lighthearted and rather joyful. "Oh, don't try to hide your surprise from me. I can feel your fear in the Force."

"But what do you have to fear?" The man asked, a smile creeping into his voice. "I have not offered you harm."

"You threatened me."

"No." The man said flatly. "I threatened the people around you. Never you."

Her mouth opened to snap a retort, but she stopped. He was right. He hadn't threatened her. Which meant she needed her. Tara reached out with the Force again, but she still could not feel the assassin. Wherever he was, he was hiding himself in the Force.

"My name is Seth." The assassin revealed unexpectedly. "And I want to know what you want."

"Huh?" Tara gaped. The assassin holding her inside this com booth wanted to know what she wanted?

"Yes, strange I know." Seth chuckled. "However, before you answer' tell me this; do you really believe that the Jedi will teach you to control your power, or just unleash it?"

"Of course. Jolon-"

"Jolon is a cynical old man on the run from the Empire. He has more important things to worry about than you." Seth's voice continued, layered with condescending pity. "Besides, you make such a lovely distraction for him. You can tell he just loves to study you. As if you are some specimen for him to dissect."

Tara's words caught in her throat. He was right. No matter what Jolon claimed, she knew he would always look out for himself. Even Semreh admitted it.

"Semreh…Semreh promised me a new life." She continued unsteadily. "He promised-"

"Oh, don't get me started on that arrogant little padawan." Seth scoffed. "He's not the Jedi the holovids all portray. No, unlike the good kind warrior monks, Semreh grew up in a war. He's a child soldier, and you know what he sees when he looks at you."

"He sees someone he loves!" She practically shouted back at him. The ground gave a slight heave, so small that normal people would never sense it, but Tara had a special affinity with the earth. Tara clamped down on her power, forcing it back under control.

"Careful now girl. We wouldn't want you to lose your temper and kill all these people. Again." He finished ominously.

Amazing how this man could scare her with mere words. "What do you mean?"

Seth laughed now. An evil, deep laugh that already gave her all the answer she needed. She clutched the receiver of the comlink booth, her knuckles whitening as guilt and fear flooded into her. Not only that, but now she was trying to force her wild powers back down.

"Oh, I've done my research Tara. And I've been inside your mind." He cleared his throat, as if preparing for a speech. "Two years ago, an earthquake on Clak'dor VII rocks the city Buerhoz. Hundreds of local Bith die and a large part of the city is destroyed."

"I-I've never been t-" Her lie died in her mouth as Seth continued.

"Four years ago, a mountain range on the planet Devaron is plagued by a series of avalanches and mudslides. Every day, reports of villages being destroyed are brought to the attention of the government, who can't explain the anomaly."

Tara's whole body shook now, fear breaking her focus. She could feel the earth rumbling beneath her feet, power channeling from the Force, through her and into the ground. Jolon warned her about her terrakinetic powers being volatile. Not that she needed warning…

"_No_!" She thought, reblocking off the part of her memory that Seth was slowly opening. But it was too late.

"You would be seventeen. Right?" Seth spoke casually, as if they were sitting in a tap caf, talking news and gossip. "My you've grown up."

Tara reached out; trying to feel Seth feeling through her memories with the Force, but her panic stopped her. Desperately, she covered her ears.

"Stay out of my head." She whispered in terror.

"Oh, I most certainly will not. Jolon should have told you how to seal it off after all." Seth clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "My my, what a poor master. Perhaps he doesn't want your mind closed."

"What do you mean?"

"Jolon claims to be able to put a check on your powers. And you know Semreh, as a Jedi, will want to fight the Empire for what they've done. And you…you have the power to move mountains."

Tara hesitated, knowing where he was going with this, but not wishing to hear it. "Semreh-"

"Semreh is driven by vengeance. You know this to be true." She could practically hear him smile on the other side of the line. "To him, you're nothing more than a big weapon."

An image flashed through her mind. Semreh walking with her through the streets. Laughing with her after a particularly hard days training with Master Jolon. Lying down together in the country side, listening to music and watching the clouds pass lazily overhead.

"No." She whispered. "Semreh loves me!"

"He loves me, He loves me!" Seth mocked, laughing as he felt waves of despair radiate from her. "Do you really believe that?"

"Yes!" She spat back angrily. The earth rumbled and groaned beneath her. A few people in the street stopped. They'd begun to notice.

"You poor naive girl. Well then, let's play a game." She heard him shift on the other side. "Look to your left and your right."

Tara obliged. The com booth to her left, was occupied by an elderly man. To her right, a mother was trying to calm her screaming child while talking into the receiver. Tara's heart froze. "No…"

"Oh, those poor people. I wonder which one I should kill." He gave a melodramatic sigh. "Well, why don't you choose for me Tara?"


	65. Chapter 65

**_Another Chapter. I hope you all enjoy. _**

**_P.S. Pay careful attention to the Jenna parts_**

Semreh clung to the side of the open cockpit speeder as it flew through the streets. Blaring klaxons and lights attached to the sides of the speeder cleared a path through traffic, letting them slip by. Daichi had commandeered a nearby police vehicle, letting them make good time to where the Chaser slicers had indicated the terrorist's frequencies were coming from.

"You know," Daichi said over the roar of the speeder as he clicked a clip into his slugthrower, "There's no guarantee they'll even be there by the time we get there."

"They'll be there."

"What makes you so sure?" Daichi asked, worried.

The building was in view now. It was a slum apartment building, essentially a wooden frame surrounded by durasteel plates stamped to the surface. Semreh noticed a lack of sliding reinforced doors and security surveillance systems that protected most modern buildings. In short, it was a perfect hideaway.

"Because, they want us to show up." Semreh unhooked his lightsaber, leaving it unignited, but clearly visible to someone who knew what they were looking for. Like a crazy headstrong Jedi riding shotgun in a land speeder.

* * *

Gerik stared through his microbinoculars, watching the street carefully for signs of unusual activity. He was expecting black suited Chaser agents arriving in plain black landspeeders. Plenty of weapons and professional courtesy when they bashed through the doors.

More importantly, he expected to see a couple of Jedi running around, waving their energy swords for targets. Then, they would blow up the pathetic hole that had been their home for a couple weeks, taking the Jedi and their allies down with it.

Of course, what they didn't expect was for only two beings, one obviously a Chaser, the other a disguised Jedi wearing a grey hooded sweatshirt and blue trousers, to come roaring up in a speeder that screamed law enforcement.

"Hold your fire." Gerik murmured into his headset. "We're still missing one Jedi."

"The red head?"

Gerik nodded, despite knowing the rest of his men couldn't see. "Yeah. The little girl. She could be waiting in reserve to attack once we reveal ourselves."

"Oh no, a little girl." Radlir's voice sounded deep as he chuckled over the comlink. "I think we'll be okay Gerik. Let's just take this one captive and beat the information out of him."

Gerik ignored the man, switching to Jenna's comlink. "The twins have gotten the kids out of the building. Time to play your part."

Gerik swung his macrobinoculars over just in time to see her nod silently. The plan was for her to stand in the open in the house and draw their victims into the trap. She'd then calmly explain to them that the threat was real and that if they didn't want to be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of innocent civilians, the Jedi would have to surrender.

Gerik chuckled. It was an eloquently simple plan, completely ruined by the fact that, when Gerik looked back, the padawan was nowhere to be seen.

"Whoa!" He grabbed his comlink, connecting to Radlir and the twins. "Where'd the target go?"

"Dunno." Radlir murmured calmly. "I've lost visual. The karking kid must be fast."

"What an observation!" A voice murmured dryly behind him.

Gerik turned, instinctively drawing his belt knives as a leaf green blade of energy burned towards him.

* * *

In Semreh's experience, there was no such thing as luck. Good luck always seemed to end in ambushes during war. Yet, every once in a while, the Force gave him a break. Like letting him know exactly where the detonator for a series of terror explosives was.

As soon as Semreh felt the certainty of the Force flowing through him, he sprang into action. Jolon had, as part of his and Tara's training, taught them how to control the energies within their own bodies. This was how a Jedi achieved the state known as Force Speed. The Force not only amplified the nervous system, but the muscular system, lending extra energy that a Jedi could hit harder, run faster, and fight better.

Semreh simply through himself at the building from which he sensed their assailants were watching them. He literally ran up the wall, using the Force to ensure his feet remained firmly attached to the vertical surface, then leapt and landed behind the man with a gentle thud. When he overheard the merc murmur that he lost the visual, Semreh couldn't resist a small taunt.

That was a mistake. The merc didn't look around, he simply through himself to the side just in time to avoid being split by Semreh's lightsaber. He came up fighting, driving his foot into Semreh's exposed thigh. Semreh staggered backwards and tried to ward him off with a wild swing from his saber, but the merc darted forward, knocking the inside of his arm away with his elbow and clocking Semreh with an uppercut. He cursed as his lightsaber fell from his hands, leaving him unarmed.

He'd underestimated the man and was paying for it now. He stepped forward, continuing to brawl with the merc. The two of them were built about the same. Semreh had always been built broad and short. His old friends had jokingly called him the tree stump for his massive shoulders, and the fact that they had to look down while talking to him.

But the merc had height on him and, more importantly, experience. The Force could only compensate for so much, and the big man was beating Semreh senseless. As a hook in a flurry of strikes caught Semreh in the side of the head, he saw stars pass in front of his eyes.

"_If I don't do something, he'll kill me with his bare hands."_ It was then that he heard the distinctive sound of metal being drawn from a sheathe. Semreh turned just in time to see the merc rising from one knee. He had drawn a knife from his boot and lunged forward, landing with his knees on Semreh's chest. Any air he had left in his lungs left him. The knife came down like a guillotine, aimed at his throat. Semreh managed to deflect it with one hand while his other shot up and smashed a palm into the man's chin with a sharp crack. He by swinging his leg up, using his thigh to knock the merc off with a powerful kick. It felt like kicking durasteel and the man didn't budge.

"Ha." The merc smiled, reaching down with one hand and grasping Semreh's neck in a vice like grip. Looks like you lose, Jedi!"

* * *

"EVERYONE MOVE!"

Daichi's command reverberated through the street as blasterfire from above began to rain down. The few civilians who were out at that late bolted, racing in every direction. Daichi sent an emergency burst on his speeder's comlink. It would call all Chasers to that point.

Daichi leapt from the landspeeder, zigzagging as a volley of blasterfire. It figured that the Jedi youth would jump ahead without waiting. He drew his slugthrower, firing on the run as he threw himself through the window of the merc hideout.

It looked like one of the many basic apartments that were so common in Melida/Daan. Unfortunately, the massive expansion after the civil war had led to thousands of prefabricated buildings. It helped with the massive population growth, but made finding criminals a nightmare.

Daichi got to his feet, dusting glass shards from his suit with a sniff. They must have taken these mercs by surprise. Before leaving, Semreh had said he knew which of the mercs had the detonator, and had then leapt from the speeder without saying another word.

Daichi decided he would do his part by apprehending the rest of the mercs and keep them from interfering.

"_Now, if I saw the fire correctly, the sniper is upstairs."_ Daichi proceeded carefully, his pistol held in the classic shooters position. One hand clenching it while the other cupped the bottom and steadied it. He made his way up the stairway, then stopped.

There was definitely someone up there. Shadows flickered against the wall above him. Rather than continue into an ambush, Daichi took a step back, and a deep breath. Then, he jumped, taking two steps up the side wall and grabbing the stair railing above. He hauled himself up with one arm, swinging his pistol up with the other. He aimed, bringing his pistol to bear on what appeared to be a hostage situation.

Two heavily cloaked men with long, dark hair were watching over a little crowd of children of various ages and sexes. They each had a blaster pistol in their hands, and looked as though they knew how to use them. One of them glimpsed him and began raising his blaster to blow Daichi's head off.

He fired his slugthrower, but the shot went low and hit the man in the thigh with a glancing blow. Still, the shot through off the man's shot, sending a sizzling bolt into the railing Daichi was hanging from.

"_Not good." _He thought, letting go as the railing bent and snapped. He hit the ground on his back with a heavy thud and rolled. His other hand went into his jacket, pulling out the standard issue Chaser stun baton stored there and extending it to its full length.

He looked up just in time to see one of the mercs come flying down on top of him. Daichi swung, ramming the crackling point of the baton into his stomach. For a moment, the man hung bent over on the tip. He jerked violently as the sparks scorched his muscles, but managed to draw something from his belt. With a swift jab, he rammed his fist down onto Daichi's forearm before falling to the ground.

Daichi raised his arm to deliver the final rehabilitating blow to the man, but couldn't. He looked down with alarm and saw that, although he was trying to move his arm, all it did was twitch slightly. It was then he noticed the long, silvery metal rising from his arm.

"_A needle?"_He grasped it with his other hand, and yanked it out with a sharp jerk, but the feeling of limpness didn't leave. "_Must have done something to my nerves." _

He didn't have time to marvel at the attack. He was forced to leap backwards as a second needle flashed by his face, nearly drilling into his temple. Instead, it sliced a thin gash across his nose. The second merc was up on the other side of the railing, drawing another needle to hurl at Daichi.

The Chaser Chief ducked backwards out of the stairwell as a second needle thudded into the doorway. He swung the door back open a few inches and fired back, unloading a clip blindly into the room. Before he could draw his arm back, a sudden pressure shut the door on his arm, trapping him.

Daichi cursed as he tried to pull away. The merc he'd stunned before must have been tough. He'd already gotten to his feet and shut the door on Daichi's arm so he couldn't move. Daichi grunted with effort as he pulled and pulled, but his arm wouldn't budge.

"Gah!" He cried as he dropped his weapon, and his hand slipped out. "I knew I should've retired."

"Too true." A blast from behind hit his shoulder, spinning Daichi like a top. His left leg buckled, and he smelled the rancid smell of burning flesh fusing with fabric. He'd forgotten the sniper.

Training took over, and Daichi threw himself at the sniper who had appeared suddenly behind him, and threw him into a full body tackle into the opposing wall. The man was smaller than Daichi, and gave way easily. Too easily. As Diachi hit him, the man's body fell with him, and his hand flashed up to Daichi's face, leaving a long gash under his chin that barely missed his throat.

Before the man could get back up and recover, Daichi jabbed three fingers forward, striking the man's throat. He gagged for a moment, and Daichi followed with a precise strike to the man's temple with his two other fingers. The man struggled for a moment, and then went limp under Daichi. The Chaser got to his feet and staggered from the house before reaching for his comlink.

"Semreh?" He called, "Semreh, do you read?"

* * *

Semreh heard his comlink beeping frantically from his belt, but was a little busy to answer it. At the moment, he was struggling while the enormous mercenary held him a full foot of the ground by his throat.

"_Enough!"_ He thought with a surge of anger. Then, he forced himself back into a calm, emotionless state. The eye of the storm. His arms fell limply to his side. Like Jolon taught him, he charged his own nervous system with Force energy, calling it from inside his body and summoning in crackling to his fingers.

He arched one of his hands up and forward, bringing it up and into the merc's stomach as the energy coursing through his arm was released. The vibrant green lightning arched out in a short burst. Nothing lethal, but enough to throw the man to the other side of the room.

Semreh called his saber to one hand while his comlink snapped from his belt and into the other.

"Daichi. What is it?"

"We've got a hostage situation Semreh." The Chaser's voice sounded pained. "There were three goons watching the apartment across the street. Looks like a bunch of kids."

"You all right?" Semreh had already started moving, picking up the detonator as he did and pocketing it.

"I took down one of the mercs, but they really did a number on me." Daichi groaned before continuing. "I'm going to contact the base. Make sure we get support. Did you stop the detonation?"

"Yes." Semreh grinned, glancing at the boards and wreckage where the merc had crashed. He was coming to. "I'll be right there to help."

Semreh casually strolled over to where the merc was groaning. Among the wreckage, some wire was hanging, adding a sparkling and eerie glow to the room. Semreh cut a good length of the wire with his saber before continuing towards the man.

"This should hold you." He murmured as he tied each of the mercs hands to rubble and fallen beams. "At least until the Chasers pick you up."

* * *

C-41 and CTA-132 had watched the whole fight between the Chaser and the twins. For CTA-132, it was reasonably entertaining. It reminded him of the Battle Circles his trainer had used on them. His trainer, a Mandalorian named Dred Priest, had used these fighting arenas to weed out the weak and unfit, creating the best Clone Assassins, Arc Troopers, and Commandos in GAR. Of course, it wasn't called the Battle Circle for nothing. It was, quite simply, a fight to the death more often than not.

So, as the Chaser fled the scene, C-41 and CTA-132 left their hiding place and walked into the room. CTA-132 was dragging Jenna by her arm, pulling her along unnecessarily and placing her in the middle of the room with the children. The gathered around her, eyes fearful but joyous at the same time. C-41 watched in fascination. Like all other clones, he'd never had a mother. The closest they had were their Mando sergeants.

C-41had had two sergeants technically. The 75 Mandalorians and 25 other soldiers who Jango had recruited to act as training sergeants were called Cuy'val Dar. In Mando'a, it meant "Those Who No Longer Exist."

C-41 had trained under Isabet Reau for regiment training. It had been a short weeklong process meant to supplement their flash training. She had worked them over thoroughly, immersing them in Mandalorian culture and history.

C-41 had also trained under Wad'e Tay'haai and the ARC trooper Alpha for his ARC trooper cross training. That had been a longer, thoroughly challenging experience. Alpha was a war hero of epic proportions, while Wad'e Tay'haai was a hardened Mando who had taught them everything from melee combat to marksmanship. By the end of their training, C-41 and every other trooper like him was a fully trained, experienced ARC.

Now those skills would be put to the test. Judging by the yells and curses he had heard over his helmet's comlink, their ambush had not gone according to plan. It was time for a strategic withdrawal.

"Hide somewhere, and collect Radlir and Gerik when the Jedi leaves. CTA-132," He turned to his fellow clone, "We have to move the hostages to a safer location and draw the Jedi away."

"Why?" CTA-132 bent his wrist back, letting the blade hidden there shoot from its slot and into the open. "Why not use the girl and kids as a shield to force the Jedi to stand down?"

C-41 was glad he had a helmet on, so that his look of dismay was hidden. The fact was that CTA-132's plan made perfect sense. It was a soldier's plan, one that disabled the Jedi's ability to do harm, while delivering him into their hands. But C-41 couldn't allow that to happen. He had promised Jenna. And while C-41 was not yet sure whether he'd lied or not, he certainly wasn't going to force them into danger if there was a way out.

"_Come on_," He thought irritably, hanging his head, "_Think_!" There had to be something wrong with CTA-132's plan. A flaw. Something in the trap he'd overlooked. His head snapped up. He had it.

"We can't rely on the Jedi to not attack just because we have a few hostages, and the Chasers may not be as compassionate as the Jedi." C-41 continued to explain. "We were expecting the Jedi to come alone. It was essential to our plan. Now, the situation has changed."

"We can still capture this boy." CTA-132 protested. "We can accomplish our mission right here."

"Yes, but there's no point in risking anymore resources on a gamble. We can retreat now without casualties and with all our resources intact and strike again later."

"More importantly," C-41 added with a gesture towards the huddled mass of children, "If we lose them, we lose our leverage over our only real explosives expert, and we'll need that to get BOTH the Jedi."

CTA-132 nodded reluctantly and, despite throwing a questioning glance at C-41, seemed to agree. CTA-132 seemed enthusiastic, even zealous, about capturing or killing Semreh. As strange as it was to hear, he seemed almost scared of this padawan.

"Fine." He retracted his wrist blade back into it's sheathe. "We retreat, then we wait to grab both the padawans." He turned to Jenna. "Get them moving. Head down the fire escape, and into the back alleys. We'll follow."

The girl nodded, herding the children out the small escape door and into the small lift that was used in emergencies to escape a fire. It wasn't fancy; just a tube people could slide down into a softened material. The kids dropped at the prodding of Jenna and the older kid. Jasper, if C-41's memory was correct.

They were like a little well trained tiny army. C-41 wondered what effect weeks of being on the run and shuttled from hideout to hideout had had on them. He supposed this was it. The Jenna girl also seemed to have adapted nicely. She hurried them along, and somehow she managed to calm down even the most distressed kid.

One of the little girls, sobbing uncontrollably, had refused to jump. C-41's ARC training had included hostage psychology, and he'd been about to step forward when Jenna had scooped the little one up and, with a simple tap on the kids nose, eased her tears. Then, the girl had slid down the fire escape without a word.

"That was…efficient." C-41 murmured to her as the last kid slid down and CTA-132 jumped after them. "How did you do that? Calm the kid down so quickly I mean?"

She shrugged, laughing nervously. "What, the kidnapper wants advice on childcare now?"

"Convenience." C-41 stated stiffly. "My ARC training included psychology work, but I could never calm someone like that."

A hissing noise from behind them caught their attention. A beam of leaf green energy was slicing through the wooden door. The Jedi had found them.

"Perhaps we should continue this conversation downstairs?" Jenna grabbed the top of the tube and threw herself down, with C-41 hot on her trail.

* * *

Semreh's saber burned a smoking x into wood of the wall, and he kicked the weakened wall in with a heavy boot. He stepped inside, saber angled to deflect the flurry of blaster bolts he thought was coming.

Nothing. The room was empty as a Devaronian cruise ship, and probably just as dangerous. Still, the Force was surging through Semreh today, and he shot forward confidently, throwing himself down the fire escape without worry. He could sense a crowd of people about thirty feet from the tubes exit.

Semreh fell from the tube with a shot, and skidded a few feet before coming to his feet, saber ignited and read, eyes scanning for enemies. What he saw surprised him.

A pair of clones standing almost protectively in front of a crowd of children. And, to Semreh's shock, there was a girl there too. She wore clothes obviously meant to conceal her identity, but Semreh could tell both by her figure and the almond shaped eyes he glimpsed beneath her hood that she was about his age.

Apparently, the girl was herding the kids down one of the side alleys, hurrying them away from the Jedi, while the two clones stayed behind. Semreh recognized their armor. One seemed to be wearing the armor of a regular clone trooper, save the deep blue kama that hung from his waist and the enormous amount of weapons strapped to his body.

The other wore armor Semreh had rarely seen, but recognized from the invasion of the Temple. A clone Assassin.

During the Clone Wars, the clone assassins had been a relative secret compared to the rest of the clone army. However, they had been trained to battle Dark Side users, who often acted as commanders for the Confederacy's armies. More importantly, several padawans from the Temple had been taken aside, and used to practice with the clones, to better equip them for when they actually fought a Force user. Of course, Semreh had not been selected, but he recalled Bene and others being taken aside to assist them. Looking back, the threat was obvious.

Either way, the severe training and experience made the Clone Assassin clearly the most dangerous opponent. ARCs were good, but not even they could match the genetically modified speed and reflexes of the Assassins.

For a moment, neither side moved. Then, the ARC seemed to exchange a few quick words with the Assassin. The helmeted clone nodded hesitantly before taking off after the girl, leaving the Arc trooper alone in the empty alley with Semreh.


	66. Chapter 66 We All Fight Alone

**_Thanks to everyone for reading! I hope you enjoy this story, and continue reading. I've got a few loose ends to tie up, and will still take some time to finish, but the ending is going to be phemominal!_**

Tara listened in horror as the Seth mumbled to himself over the comlink, reasoning on which person he should kill. It was like listening to a mad man murmur to himself.

"Well, that mother with the child is the obvious answer." The Sniper murmured as if Tara wasn't listening, "But that old man is someone's grandpa or father. Choices choices…"

He gave a melodramatic sigh. "Oh well, I suppose, if you won't chose, I can kill both!"

"No!"

"Ah, she speaks." Seth chuckled through the comlink. "Well, which do you chose?"

It was an impossible situation. If Tara took one step outside, there was every chance Seth would kill her before she could protect herself. Not only that, but the man seemed to be inside Tara's head, raiding the deepest secrets and shames she had.

More importantly, either choice turned her into a murderer.

"Neither." Tara growled, "I'm going to find you, and kill you. I swear."

"Ooooh, careful now. Don't want your Jedi serenity to crack, do we?"

"I'm not a Jedi yet." She shot back. "So killing you would be no problem."

Silence. Then, "And that's why it has to be you. You are not indoctrinated by Jedi lies of passivity and serenity. You know the world as I do; a harsh unpredictable place capable of destroying even those who only try to help it." More silence. "Not unlike your powers."

"Shut up."

"Your powers, always destroying those who only want to help. Always driving those around you towards away."

"Shut up!" Her voice was rising now in panic.

"Ah, there it is." Seth laughed. Tara could practically feel him crawling around his mind. "No wonder you're always running. Even I would run from something like this."

"Now," Seth continued, his voice growing bright and cheerful, "You have fifteen seconds to chose a target, and then I chose for you."

"Wait-"

"Thirteen."

"You can't do this." She begged. "Please!"

Then, a flash. From up in one of the buildings surrounding the main square. A lance of energy sizzling through the air for a brief second, before it falls, burning through a man passing by. An innocent man. Not one of the targets offered by Seth.

"This was your choice."

A second later, the square erupts into fire as Seth rains deadly sniper fire on the people from above. For several long moments, nobody moves. Then, they scatter in every direction as blaster fire continues to rain down on them.

That was it. Something in Tara snapped. Suddenly, she felt possessed by an enormous rage. It was like a wildfire had been lit in her chest, and all she could do to control it was to release it. To focus it. To unleash it.

The ground beneath her began to shake violently, throwing fleeing civilians to their knees and causing the buildings to sway erratically. Tara was losing control.

* * *

"Great," Fless murmured as he and Sten rose through the building, "Turbolift music."

Sten nodded silently, checking his sleeves absentmindedly as the corny music rang through the confined area. The Imperial Sector government building was the home of the Sector Moff, and therefore the command sector of virtually every planet in the rather large Imperial Sector. In short, take away the Moff, and you could provide suitable distraction for any operation. Like, say, stealing a prototype Imperial warship under said Moff's nose.

"Bum bum bum, ba, badum, ba, badum." Fless hummed as he checked the dart gun he was carrying. They were filled with a heavy sleeping agent that would knock the Moff out with one dart injection. In his other hand he held a suitcase identical to the one Sten was carrying.

"The Imperials like their marches huh?" Fless glanced sideways at his partner. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Sten was not a man of many words, but Fless was an old friend. "Worried."

"About this? We do this all the time."

"Against criminals, not heavily armed Imperials." Sten shook his head. "Dunno, it just seems like a lot of work for a distraction."

Sten shouldn't have been worried. Their contact in Imperial security had ensured that their search had been very quick and rushed. As the suitcases they carried were filled with papers and other basic office and meeting stuff, the scanners didn't pick up anything threatening. Add that the dart guns they carried were air compression weapons, so there was no energy or heat signature for scanners to detect.

Still, Fless looked like he might agree, but then just shook his head, donning a pair of sunglasses. "We're the Chasers. It's what we do."

Sten nodded, waiting in the awkward silence so common in turbolifts. Then, a thought that had been nagging the back of his mind sprung to the forefront of his thought.

"Fless," He asked hesitantly, "Back on Naboo, when you shot that assassin, what were you saying?"

Hm?" Fless turned, looking distracted.

"It wasn't basic, and it didn't sound like any language I know."

"Oh, so now you're a tech expert and a linguist?"

"No." Sten shook his head, ignoring Fless's annoyed tone. "But I know I've never heard you speak it before."

Fless sighed, staring blankly at the turbolift doors even as he answered.

"It's Mandalorian."

"Ah," Sten said, waiting for him to continue, "Left your armor at home then?"

"You could say that." Fless looked up as they began to reach the top of the obscenely tall Imperial citadel. "Not everyone's cut out for the life of a 'code of honor' mercenary. I was more relaxed than that." Fless's voice got quieter now, as though her were trying to remember a far off memory.

"I was adopted by one of them. It's what they do after all; adopt the children of whatever planet they're making orphans on." Fless didn't sound angry as he discussed what Sten assumed was his own parents fate. Rather, he sounded tired. Resigned.

"I ran away when I was twelve, and ended up traveling." Fless shrugged when Sten looked at him expectantly. "I traveled for a while, before joining the Chasers. The rest, you already know."

"Right." Sten murmured disbelievingly as he put on a pair of his own sunglasses. "So that's it?"

"Now really isn't the time." Fless shot back as the turbolift bell pinged.

The doors to the turbolift hissed open, letting the Chasers walk into the open reception room. It was quiet, ringed with chairs, with a single secretary standing guard at a desk in the center of the room. Behind her, the doors to the Moff's office were flanked by a pair of stormtroopers carrying the new E-11 blasters.

Fless didn't wait. He raised his dart gun, firing a pair of tranquilizing darts into one of the stormtroopers necks. Sten followed, firing into the other. However, the stormtrooper had moved slightly, forcing the dart to deflect off of his helmet instead of cutting into the plastic covering their necks. He flinched though, giving Sten time to lunge across the room and throw the armored trooper against the wall. He hit with enough force to leave a dent in the durasteel wall, and the trooper sagged to the ground.

Fless wordlessly shot the secretary, leaving her slumped over her desk. "That'll do." He murmured, pushing the young secretary out of her chair and onto the floor. "We probably have a few minutes before Imperial security figures out something is wrong."

"Assuming your contact is very, very reliable."

"If he doesn't loop the security feed, he'll be very, very dead."

The plan was for Fless's contact to feed a loop to the security holoprojectors, meaning that the holoprojectors throughout the office will show the same peaceful image from a few moments ago, instead of the chaotic scene from now.

"Well, let's go meet the Moff." Fless said with a wiry grin. Together, he and Sten activated the door using the security card they'd found on the secretary. Inside they stepped, into a hail of blasterfire.

* * *

Elena followed the lead of the Shriekhawks as the tramped heavily across the surface of the _Solar Chariot_, their bulky suits hindering their progress. Across the expanse of space, the frigates and fighters of the Alliance were mingling with the bewildered defense forces of the Fenrir research facility.

Surprise had been total. A single squadron of Shadowcat fighters, flown by the experienced Bravo Squadron, had darted in beneath the stations scanners. Attacking in a tight formation, they had ravaged the stations small wing of fighters, destroying many before they had the opportunity to launch.

Meanwhile, the task force had appeared just outside of the hypervelocity gun's range, setting up a perimeter while the _Solar Chariot_ began its slow rotation around the planet, bringing it right into the sights of the planetary gun. Until the Shriekhawks destroyed that gun, no ship larger than a starfighter would dare approach the station.

"This is SUCH a dumb idea." One of the Shriekhawks said through the comlinks of their bulky suits.

"Cut the chatter." Bolt warned from Elena's right. He had been hesitant about bringing her along when she'd never even attempted a jump before, but, as he put it, "my only job is to follow orders".

Besides, it had been Halber's idea. With him commanding the space battle, it only made sense for her to head to ground with the rest of the Shriekhawks. Luckily, they had a few spare suits from "washouts", and Elena felt that, despite her inexperience, she could rely on the Force in this case.

More importantly, Elena wanted to do this. Something about the idea of jumping from an exploding ship and hurtling through the atmosphere towards a garrison of heavily armed and entrenched stormtroopers gave her a rush.

It was something that bothered her, and she knew it made Semreh especially uneasy. During the war, the two of them had been part of a generation of padawans that grew up fighting the Clone Wars, but had also been very different.

Everyone had their way of coping with the death and destruction the Clone Wars brought. Elena had learned to sink her psyche into the violence of it all, letting herself enjoy the thrill of danger, and the rush of victory. Semreh thought she used violence and excitement like a drug addict used death sticks.

But Semreh was no angel either. Elena had seen that on Sluis Van. Unlike Elena, Semreh pulled away from his emotions completely. He stepped away from the battle and looked down on it like a person playing chess or dejarik. He pulled his mind away from the field of battle so much that he no longer saw people or soldiers, but rather tools with their own strengths and weaknesses. It was his greatest strength and failure.

But Semreh had been like this before the Clone Wars as well. It was after a mission, the details of which were largely unknown to the padawans, that Semreh had returned with his new outlook on life. Elena had never bothered to ask his fellow padawan about what had changed him; what had made him so emotionally distant. It wasn't that he never talked, or joked, or laughed. He did all the time back in the Temple, or even on the battlefield.

But there was always something strained on his face, like the smile could deflate any second. The only time Elena had glimpsed a true, TRUE smile from Semreh was when he was with Tara during one of their ventures into Zehava. The girl was good for him. She made him unwind and relax. And after several years fighting a desperate war nonstop, nobody needed that more than Semreh.

"Prepare to detach." The order came over the com. All at once, the Shriekhawks deactivated the magboots that had held them to the durasteel hull of the _Solar Chariot_. Slowly, one by one, they began to float away from the doomed skeleton ship.

"Good luck Shriekhawks." The remainder of the _Solar Chariot's_ Skeleton crew said before running for the escape pods.

"Good luck _Solar Chariot_." Came Bolt's reply. "We're going head first."

Then, for a while, both the massive frigate and the cloud of fifty troopers seemed to hang suspended in time. The complete silence of space surrounded them. Then, a flash of light as bright as the sun, and a beam of energy flashed from the surface of the planet, rising up and striking the Sabaoth frigate in one of its curved wings. The beam continued through the wing, and shaved the top of the frigate off, leaving it an empty, flaming shell.

Soon, the wreckage from the ship and the entire squad of Shriekhawks was swept up by the planet's gravity, and they were inexorably pulled down towards its surface. This was the hard part.

It was generally accepted that, for this plan to work, surprise would have to be on the Shriekhawk's side. Part of this was achieved by using an unorthodox method of insertion, but even the Imperials were bound to notice fifty troopers falling from the sky. So, a distraction was needed. Camouflaged by the massive amount of debris falling around them, the Shriekhawks could crash, undetected, into the planet. And, if their calculations were correct, they should land within less than a day's walk from the site of the hypervelocity gun.

Of course, there was a danger. Not only could the crash kill them, but the falling debris would probably kill and maim many of the troopers on the way down. As Elena fell, she watched the neat formations of the troopers fall into chaos as chunks of superheated metal picked off troopers.

Elena glimpsed one trooper, a Rodian, have his suit breached by a jagged piece of durasteel. While the wound was not serious, the heat from the friction as they burned through the atmosphere began boiling him alive within his own suit. Further down, another man had his leg severed at the hip as another spinning piece cut through their line.

As the their suits entered the atmosphere, Elena could see the heat shielding glowing red on all their suits. One by one, the suits deployed flaps to slow their descent. Iv drips attached troopers arm began pumping adrenaline into their veins to keep them conscious. The interior of the armor deployed a crash gel meant to absorb the damage of impact.

It seemed like the fall took forever for Elena. When she impacted, she was only half conscious.

* * *

Fless opened fire, striking the olive uniformed aides flanking the Moff's desk with a dart each. They fell before they could fire another shot. Sten stepped forward, the edge of his massive left shoulder smoking slightly. Rounding the table, he found the Moff, and plugged a single dart into his thigh. The Moff shuddered, and collapsed.

Fless holstered his weapon, and got to a knee as he opened his briefcase. Sten idled up next to him, following suit. Once both were opened, Fless worked the specially made briefcases together, attaching them until they became one long body sized case.

"Stars he's heavy." Sten grunted as he picked the man up over one shoulder and plopped him in the case. "We'll both have to carry him down."

"It won't matter. It'll take them about ten to fifteen minutes to figure out something's wrong. By then we'll be outta here."

"If you say so." Sten quickly shut the enormous suitcase, clamping it shut with the heavy bolts on the side. He and Fless each grabbed a handle and, with relative ease, lifted their makeshift body bag together.

* * *

Semreh and C-41 stared each other down, each of them mentally preparing themselves for the battle ahead. Semreh used his usual meditation technique, focusing on a point in the back of his mind until he felt his consciousness drift up and away.

C-41 gradually loosened every muscle he had, tensing and relaxing each of his joints from his fingers, to his shoulders. Cracking his neck, he swung his long barreled DC-15A Blaster rifle off a sling and into his arms. He shrugged off a few of the other weapons, leaving him with a pair of holstered pistols, another strapped to his thigh, and a vibroknife slotted into his right shoulder's armor.

"More movement." He explained to the Jedi standing across the alley from him.

Semreh said nothing, merely scowling at the faceless mask of the clone. The clone was making conversation, trying to delay Semreh and by time for his comrades. Immediately, every image of the night of Order 66 was summoned into his head, filling him with rage. Semreh breathed the anger out with difficulty, pulling his mind back into meditation. Then, he moved.

Semreh let the Force guide his actions. It energized his nerves and propelled his arms; making them faster than the normal human eye could see. His lightsaber blurred towards C-41's head, but C-41 was a soldier with years of experience under his belt. He dropped, firing off the hip with one hand while his other hand caught Semreh's passing wrist.

Semreh managed to dodge the wild shots from the blaster, C-41 twisted Semreh's wrist back, forcing him to drop his lightsaber, and spun him around and into the nearby alley wall. Semreh hit the wall with a sharp crack from his forehead. It would have been enough to daze most people, but Semreh was no longer on the ground. He was deep within his own meditation.

Semreh braced his feet against the wall and, before C-41 could force his arm into an arm bar, pushed backwards. C-41 sidestepped and spun Semreh to the ground, maintaining his crushing grip on Semreh's wrist. With just that one appendage, C-41 could control his entire body by applying pain whenever he wanted. The more Semreh struggled, the worse the pain.

"Easy Semreh." C-41 growled from beneath his helmet. "My orders are to bring you alive. So why don't you just tell me where the girl is?"

Semreh stopped, shocked. They knew about Scout and her? They knew his name? That alone was too much. C-41 hauled Semreh up by his arm, wrapping it back behind his back and into a powerful arm bar. He pressed Semreh up to the wall, slamming his head into the wall again.

And then, Semreh saw his chance. True, he was weakened from his battle with the mercenary, and using Force lightning had left his right arm smoking, with pieces of skin having been peeled away. Semreh needed to find a medic or Jolon to heal him, but couldn't escape with his body in such a mangled mess.

There was only one solution. Semreh stepped forward, bracing his feet against the wall. And, miraculously, did not fall. See, Semreh had taught him one or two tricks over the months. One of these, an attempt to learn to control the Force better, was to project Force energy from his legs in a similar way to how a Jedi might push or pull something using his arms as a channel.

Semreh continuously Force pulled the wall, letting the Force energy gather around his feet so he stuck to the wall. Put simply, Semreh started running up the wall.

C-41's grip weakened due to the change of angle and his own surprise. Before he could recover, Semreh twisted and broke his grip. C-41 stepped backward, drawing his pistols and firing in one swift motion. Semreh practically flew up the wall, blaster bolts pinging around him. C-41 focused, aiming carefully, and fired one shot; one shot that clipped Semreh in the thigh. Hs tumbled, keeping his grip on the roof by hanging by his arms. Helpless. C-41 picked up his discarded rifle, swinging it smoothly up into an aiming position. He took careful aim; only to have said personal aim ruined as he felt his head snap back and a cool breeze suddenly passing across his face.

"What have I told you about thinking before moving young Semreh?"

Semreh dragged himself up the rest of the way and glanced in the direction of the new voice. There, atop the building across the small alley, was Jolon and Scout. Scout was reaching into her belt, picking another small knife from the collection she wore around her waist.

"You and Scout go after the rest of them." Jolon leapt down into the alley, and landing in a crouched position, his robes gathering at around him in a halo. "I will deal with the trooper."

"Jolon," Semreh started, raising his mangled limb, "My ar-"

But Semreh stopped mid sentence as he watched the skin on his arm boil, raise, and gather together, healing itself. Semreh gapped for a moment, but was jerked back into his senses as Jolon's voice barked from the alley below.

"I'll explain later Semreh. Now get moving!"

The urgency in his voice snapped Semreh into action. He and Scout exchanged a quick nod before sprinting along the roof that lined the alleyway. They leapt across gaps between buildings, not slowing for any obstacle. But, Semreh let off a groan of dismay as they came to the first fork in the alleyway.

"What w-"

"This way!" Scout yelled, already leaping from one building to one where she could follow the left bound alleyway.

Semreh followed, instinct born from years of taking orders powering his limbs.

"How do you know?" He cried between grunts of exertion and effort from their mad dash.

"I just do. Trust me." Scout continued forward. Evidently, her time spent with her new master had paid off. Leaping from building to building was nothing prepared to traveling through the trees of Kilmaulsi. Scout's foot work rarely faltered or failed; and even Semreh, with his advantage in the Force, was struggling to keep up with her.

What's more…Scout was leading. Perhaps it was her bossy tone, or the fact that she was inexplicably following the trail of their enemy…But Scout was now taking the lead. Whenever they came to a fork or a split in the alleyway, Scout didn't never slowed. She immediately knew which way their quarry had gone. Not suspected; knew.

Finally, their prey came within sight. At the far end of a long, haunted alley, it looked as though they had stopped to allow their hostages rest. The girl and the clone were out in front, talking while the children sat in a tired huddle behind them. Scout and Semreh dropped, abandoning speed for stealth from their high position.

But the clone must have sensed them. His helmeted head looked up straight at them. Even his visor seemed to glare as he murmured something to the girl. She whirled about, alarmed, and began moving the kids along. Semreh swore, leaping to his feet to give chase. But the clone didn't run. He just stood, his stance relaxed but ready. A Kath hound ready to strike.

"What do you think?" Scout murmured, standing besides Semreh as they surveyed the scene below.

"I think we need to split up." Semreh rolled up the sleeve of his right arm, grasping its forearm with his other hand. Slowly, he began to gather Force energy, circulating it, preparing to unleash it in the form of a burst of lightning. "You go for the kids. I can take down the clone."

"No." Scout reached forward, grabbing his wrist before he could dive down on the clone.

"I can take him."

"But will you know where I and the hostages are afterwards." Scout shrugged. "What if I'm in trouble and you can't sense it because of my low connection to the Force?" Scout unbuckled her saber with one hand, and began selecting a small knife from her belt with the other. "No, the best option is for me to stay behind and occupy our friend down there, while you go after the girl and the hostages. Besides, I've dealt with these guys before."

Semreh nodded, but wasn't so sure. "Remember that the Clone assassins were inhibited by the water last time, and they were probably not very battle experienced. Don't underestimate them."

Scout laughed, her stress and exhaustion rolling off her face. "I really don't think I've ever underestimated anyone in my life." A serious look masked the former ease. "But you'd better not underestimate this girl, alright? Don't let your guard down."

"Got it." Semreh said, a good natured smiled on his lips, but it was strained by worry. "I'll be back to help you clean up this trash."

"Don't bother." The smile slipped out from Scout's mask again. "When I finish here, I'll help you with your girl problems."

Semreh turned, throwing the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head, and sprinted through the falling darkness.

* * *

Tara was on her knees, her body shuddering with the effort of controlling her power. Her hands were pressed against the glace, leaving trails of sweat from her palms as she tried to slow her rising panic. The squeaking noise combined with her own haggard breath to fill the small cubicle with noise.

"In, out." She murmured, trying to force her breath to obey, "In, out."

"Don't be a fool." More blaster fire from above tore into the panicked crowds of innocents below. "You can end this right now."

"How!?" Tara howled as the deaths of more innocent people shook her defenses.

"With your power, you could kill me with one simple wave of your hand. All you need to do," He said, with a smile Tara could practically see, "Is let yourself relax. Feel angry at me. Feel furious at yourself for not caring enough to save these people. Let yourself feel that power flowing through you, and then focus it."

"With that power, you could pop my head like a grape, or boil my bones. You'd like that wouldn't you?" His calm assurance of his own power infuriated her. Tara could practically feel her anger coursing through her veins like melted lead. Tara gritted her teeth into a gruesome smile.

"You have no idea." She snapped, getting to her feet. "It would make me the happiest girl in the galaxy."

"Well," Seth smirked, "What are you waiting for?"

**_Thanks for reading everyone. For those of you who got my message,. I'm sorry for bothering you, but it's hard for me to stay inspired to write when I suspect nobody's reading. Not a huge deal if you don't want to continue, but please tell me if you are. Thanks again to you all!_**


	67. Chapter 67 The Bantha Poodoo Hit the Fan

**_Okay, I tried extraordinarily hard to tie a ton of emotion into this chapter at the end._**

* * *

Scout landed lightly on her feet in front of the clone, her lightsaber in one hand, one of the delicate knives she carried in the other. The knives themselves were meant to be thrown or used as tools. However, this only belied their lethal nature, and months of training had made her comfortable with the weapon. She had a full belt of these weapons, plus other tools her master had given her, stashed beneath her Jedi robes.

About fifty feet from her, the clone flicked his wrists up, revealing the blades hidden beneath his armor. Intimidation tactics. Scout rolled her eyes, and with a quick flick of her wrist, sent the blade flashing towards the clone. He twitched, his advanced reflexes making the blade seem to move in slow motion. Then, he leapt, a whirlwind of blades and fists.

Scout retreated, back stepping and ducking beneath his attacks. She felt one of his blades graze her cheek, nearly splitting her head in half. Scout spun, drawing another knife just in time to catch his follow up attack, but he jump kicked, twisting his boot into her unprotected stomach. She flew backwards, landing in a crouched position just in time to see the clone's elbow blade rising to slash across her face.

Instinct and training took over. Scout lashed out with her blade, but instead of blocking the blow, she gently guided the slash up and away from her face. She turned her crouch into a tight roll, coming up inside the clone's arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist in a bear hug and, with enormous exertion, bent her back backwards, hurling the assassin over her.

He landed on his helmet with a sharp crack, but before Scout could recover, the clone raised his wrist and twisted one of his fingers. The wrist blade hidden there snapped out and launched itself with a shrieking hiss, burying itself in Scout's left arm.

A river of pain shot up Scout's arm, and she fell to one knee as her mind reeled. The clone meanwhile had recovered, sliding acrobatically on the smooth armor of his back and into a standing position. His body moved with a lethal, yet primal grace, flowing from one attack to another. The clone leapt, cocking his right arm back to carve through Scout.

But the little padawan was still very much alive. Letting her body fall backwards, she barely dodged the scything weapon. Dropping her lightsaber, she grabbed the knife from her arm and thrust upwards at the clone. The blade hit, but only left a small gash in the skin and flexible material at the clone's waist.

The clone flinched backwards though, surprised that this skinny little girl had wounded him. He whirled, attacking from the right now. Scout turned, whip kicking the clone mid-leap. He slid away, his armor clattering on the stone. Scout dropped to the ground, grabbing her saber and igniting it's sky blue blade.

"Don't underestimate me." She growled, extending her lightsaber before her.

The clone shook his head, tapping his helmet with a finger. "There's a reason we wear these things." He cocked his head, and laughed. "I think I recognize you now. You were the little sleemo that killed my partners." He ejected his blades, readying them. "I'm going to have some fun with this."

Scout blinked, and gasped. One second, the clone had been there, and in a blur the man had disappeared. He reappeared besides her, his arm raised. Scout ducked, but was surprised to see his knee rising to meet her. The blade jutting from it flashed forward, and only a desperate moment of precognition saved her from being scarred for life. However, the clones foot rose and struck her under the chin, throwing her away.

She landed and bounced on her back, all air crushed from her lungs. Scout realized now that the man had been mocking her, playing with her. She felt his armored hand grab the back of her tunic, raising her off her feet.

"They don't make you Jedi like they used to." The assassin mocked. Scout heard a hissing sound. Desperately, she grabbed a knife from her belt, and slashed backwards blindly, but missed. Scout clenched her eyes shut.

* * *

Jenna was gasping for air, doubled over for breath. The children were exhausted, and none of them were going anywhere anytime soon. Hopefully, CTA-132 had managed to hold off the Jedi.

Her hopes were quickly dashed as a hooded figure landed in front of her. Before she could move, he lunged forward, placing himself between her and her kids. Grabbing her waist with one hand, he spun her around and planted a foot on her back, kicking her forward and into the dirt.

Jenna struggled to her feet, but stopped as a beam of green energy rose humming to her chin.

"Do-not-move." The Jedi growled slowly. He pushed the blade forward, making her flinch slightly as the heat singed her skin.

"All right kids," he called over his shoulder, "Back up against the wall an-"

There was a rush of noise. Jenna gaped as Jasper leapt forward, sprinting towards the Jedi. He reached into the Jedi's belt, pulling a holdout blaster from its holster there. The Jedi, too stunned to act quickly enough, jerked slightly as two bolts from the blaster struck him in the back.

The Jedi whirled, his face a mask of animal fury. He grabbed Jasper's wrist, twisting the blaster from his hand. His green saber rose, a guillotine. Jenna screamed. He was going to kill him. She reached out with her hand, helpless.

"Don't!" She screamed.

The Jedi's arm stuttered to a stop mid swing, the energy blade inches from Jasper's face. The boy was terrified, shaking uncontrollably as he looked up at the hooded Jedi. Jenna lay there, her arm outstretched, silently willing the Jedi to let the boy go. Slowly, he turned, his shoulders heavy. He looked at her, his eyes growing pale as he looked at her. Then, he smiled.

"Thanks." He murmured in relief before falling forward.

Jenna caught him, propping him up on her shoulder. The boy was short, but built like a tank. "Help me Jasper." She asked, but the boy was shivering against the wall, unable to cope with having faced his own mortality. Jenna let the Jedi down as gently as she could, and hurried over to him.

She grabbed his arm, holding him, willing him to calm down. She'd always been good at that. At keeping children calm, and sensing when they felt nervous, or scared, or angry. Now though…

"I need your help Jasper." She whispered, taking the blaster from his quivering hands. "Please, help me carry this guy."

Jasper looked up at her, panic draining from his face. "He tried to kill you." He murmured faintly.

"I know, but now we need to help him. Come on."

Jenna got to her feet, helping Jasper up and turning to the orphans. "Keep close kids. We need to get out of here."

Jenna knew she had to move soon. Regardless of whether she did it willingly or not, she was a terrorist in the eyes of the Chasers and the Jedi. If they caught her, she would go to a penal colony at best, be executed at worst. And the children…She needed to keep them alive no matter what. Without her, they could end up in slavery or the victim of the Empire's military recruiting efforts. Not all worlds were as kind to orphans as Chandrila.

And then there were the mercs. True, she could try and run now. She might even get away, but while dragging the kids in tow, it seemed impossible, and the mercs would find them eventually.

"Come on." She called, as she and Jasper began dragging the Jedi along, fleeing for their lives into the alleyways of Zehava.

* * *

Jolon rose, holding the clone above him with the Force, and hurling him against the wall. The clones armor was battered and broken like his body. He struggled to his feet, going for a blaster at his side, but was hurled backwards by a waved of Jolon's finger.

"I really don't think you're worth my time." Jolon murmured, tilting his head as he raised the clone up again, pinning him to the wall with the Force. "But…You could still prove useful to me." Jolon reached out, with his other hand, pulling the helmet off the clones head. Jolon was surprised.

The clone looked old, with streaks of gray in his hair and age lines beginning to crisscross his face. Most clones, though they grew quickly, still looked rather young. To have this grey hair, Jolon guessed he was one of the oldest.

Pushing the thought from his head, Jolon placed his hand on the clone's forehead. The clone's eyes fluttered, and he fell unconscious with a shudder. With a flick of his wrist, Jolon threw the battered old soldier aside contemptuously.

Then, Jolon sighed. He felt the pain of both Scout and Semreh radiating in the Force.

_Tthe Bantha Poodoo has hit the fan heh?"_ Jolon thought dryly.

Without a word, he left, his coat flapping around his feet in the windless alley, leaving C-41 behind, barely alive.

* * *

Elena awoke, unsure of how long she'd been there. For a moment, she panicked. Enclosed spaces were not one of her favorite places to be. She frantically searched for the series of eject buttons that would break open the airtight suit. Activating all four, she waited while they charged. Finally, a series of shaped tiny explosives popped the suit open like a cocoon. Elena stepped out, drawing her saber as she surveyed the area.

She was in a rocky area. A couple meters away, another suit sat. It was smashed open, having impacted on the rocks. The man who had been inside was a mess of gore and shattered bone. Elena thought back, vaguely remembering a warning from the Force guiding her into the soft sand between the rocks before she fell unconscious.

She knelt besides him, closing what remained of his eyes before rummaging through his suit. Inside the roomy suit, she found a standard DC-Assault Carbine and an AR-1 blaster rifle. The assault Carbine was relatively light, though it had a heavy circular power pack. The AR-1 rifle was a long blaster rifle, extremely versatile and able to have either a glowstick or vibro-bayonet attachment.

Elena slung both these weapons over her shoulder, determined to find the rest of the Shriekhawks. For a short time, she wondered around, following the noise of the hypervelocity guns firing into space. Hopefully, the rest of the Shriekhawks had the same idea.

It wasn't long before Elena came across them. As she came to a particularly dense grove of trees, a pair of sentries wearing the Shriekhawk green and kaki stepped out. They were about five hundred yards from the gun, and it looked like Bolt had already set up a command post. He and the rest of the squad leaders were crouched in a circle, using a small flashlight to view a small map of the area.

"Master Jedi." Bolt nodded as Elena approached. "Were you followed?"

"I found one of your troopers dead back there, but other than that no contact till now."

Bolt nodded. "That makes our loses around eleven troopers. We'll need to rethink our strategy." He waved Elena over. She crouched besides him. As she got closer, she couldn't help but notice that his body was exceedingly pale, and seemed to be getting paler by the day. His hair had also gotten darker and thinner. Something was obviously wrong with him.

"There are three hypervelocity guns, each mounted on a mound of fortifications and equipment meant to protect it." Bolt pointed at the three guns on the map. They were placed in a triangle, but far enough away that a single orbital strike couldn't destroy them. "Now, my proposal is that we split into three squads, and hit these things simultaneously. Fino'sac," He said, turning to a Twi'lek crouched besides him, "You'll take the largest group and hit the one nearest to us. I'll take the second largest squad and take the second farthest one. Elena, you take our only still fully intact squad and destroy the last one.

"Why have the largest group attack the nearest one?" Fino'sac asked. Bolt sighed impatiently.

"This mission relies on us being undetected by Imperial patrols. The smaller the squad the less likely we'll be detected, and since these squads have the longest way to go, it will be far more difficult for them to remain undetected with a large group."

"But won't it by difficult to take a gun with such a small group?"

"That's why Elena and I will be accompanying these squads." Bolt snapped the map shut, and placed it in his the inside of his grey uniform jacket. "We'll even the odds. Right commander?"

Elena nodded approvingly. Bolt knew how to command and, although she may technically outrank him, neither of them were stupid enough to risk the mission. Elena was a fighter, but hardly a commander.

"All right then. Spears, introduce Elena to your squad."

"Yes sir." A serious faced human nodded at Elena, jerking his head in a "follow me" gesture.

"Jedi Elena." He murmured to her, giving a slight bow. "It's an honor to serve the Jedi again."

"Again?" Elena asked. "When have you served before?"

"I was an Antarian Ranger during the war."

"Never heard of them." Elena said with a shake of your head.

"You wouldn't have." Spears said with a grin. "We weren't exactly recognized by the Jedi Council, but we acted as scouts and backup for Jedi whenever they were on missions. There weren't a lot of us, but I'd like to think we made a difference."

"So, I'm guessing you made your way into Palpatine's graces the same as the Jedi?"

"Exactly. A lot of us are dead, but I've had some contact. A few of them are still around, forming underground railroads in an attempt to smuggle Jedi to safety."

"Really? Could you-"

"Before you ask, no I can't reveal any details. Not even I know anything."

Elena nodded in understanding. That was how intelligence cells worked after all. The less each group knew, the better. Semreh and Bren had done the same thing with the Alliance. No ship knew the origin of any other ship.

"Anyways, this is the squad." He pointed at a long hair's man with dark dreadlocks, a bothan with a luscious coat fringed with pure white hair, a pale and freckled human, and a young Mirialan with a few small tattoos across his green face. "This is Garner, Kola, Bebop, and Hylo in that order."

The squad sounded off a round of greetings. The Miralan shot to his feet as soon as he glimpsed her lightsaber.

"You're a Jedi right?" When Elena nodded, he leapt forward, shaking her hand enthusiastically. "That's great! Have you ever met Master Luminara? She was a Jedi I met once while she visited our planet. Is she still alive? How-"

"Easy scooter." Elena raised her hand, cutting the enthusiastic young guy off. "First of all, yes I have met her…And I have no idea whether she's alive or not. Secondly…Isn't this a bad place to be doing this?"

"Bingo." Garner said with a grin, pushing the Miralan out of the way. "Come on Hylo, grab your rifle and mount up. We still need to armor up." The dreadlocked man grabbed Hylo by his uniform, pulling him to his feet with a sharp jerk.

The squad began throwing on patches of armor. Nothing bright or even hard like the stormtroopers wore. It was flexible, resembling Kevlar more than anything. Their helmets were similar, besides the reflective visors that slid over their heads.

Once the squad was ready to move, they really moved. Bolt and Fino'sac's squads would be able to wait a while longer. After all, they didn't have to cover as much distance as Spear's squad. Elena was pleased to find that the troopers were following her easily over the rough terrain. Elena had the benefit of the Force, but the troopers were certainly quick on their feet.

It wasn't long before they reached their destination. Like the rest of the guns, this one was heavily defended by at least two platoons of three squads each. The stormtroopers were entrenched, E-Web repeaters and other weapons scanning the surrounding area for intruders. The squad took up position outside of their vision, camouflaging themselves in one of the many dense groves.

"That's a lot of troopers." Hylo murmured as he looked through the scope of his rifle. "Way to many for the six of us to take."

"Not our problem." Spears murmured, nodding at Garner. "Our job is to just make sure you get to the turret alive."

Garner nodded. "If you guys can get the gun to stop firing, I can rappel up the turret's barrel and spike the gun. After that we follow the usual procedure for extraction."

"Run for our pathetic lives?" Elena offered.

"How'd you know?" Kola said sweetly, and then laughed. "Well, when do we move?"

Spears looked at his wrist chrono. "Three minutes. That was agreement."

Three minutes. No time at all, or all the time in the world. Elena waited, then, a minute to go, the squad split up. Hylo stayed behind to provide support while the rest of them crept forward, using cover to conceal themselves. Garner went off on his own, a heavy pack of explosives slung over his shoulder.

Elena split from the main squad, planning to sneak around the stormtroopers and take them from behind. It was a plan she and many other Jedi had developed while fighting against single minded droids, but it should work just as well for stormtroopers distracted by a squad of Shriekhawks.

"_Three, two, one. There." _Elena looked up at the sheer wall before her. Up there somewhere, a heavily fortified group of stormtroopers were preparing to repel a rebel attack. Elena grinned. Just like old times.

The sound of blaster fire suddenly erupted above her, drowning out shouts and panicked yells of stormtroopers. Taking a deep breath, Elena threw herself into a vertical leap, and into the battle.

Spears and the rest of the squad were laying down a hard fire. Any troopers out in the open were mowed down. Unfortunatley, the troopers were prepared for attack. Their E-Webs sent chains of blasterbolts into the trees they were using as cover, and soon it was evident that they would be overwhelmed.

However, it was also evident that the stormtroopers were focused on them, and no longer paying attention to the cannon. Hopefully, during it's cool down phase, Garner would be able to rappel up and place the satchel charge before anyone noticed. The charge would explode, disabling the turret and making the gun essentially inoperable.

Of course, that particular maneuver would not help them escape the stormtroopers. All their squad could do was keep firing. So far, surprise and cover had kept them alive, but not for much longer.

Then, something very simple happened to change the tide. Elena entered the fight.

Spears had fought during the Clone Wars and seen Jedi fight on several different occasions. Every time, it took his breath away, but this time it was different. Normally, Jedi fought with this quiet grace, as though the world was passing by them and they were merely observers. Elena had none of that.

Maybe it was that she was just an apprentice. Maybe years of fighting in the Clone Wars had changed how padawans fought. Either way, Elena didn't fight like any Jedi Spears had seen. Sure, she had the usual acrobatics and speed. No blaster bolt came within a hairsbreadth of her.

But instead of quiet grace, her strikes were punctuated with curses and grunts of exertion. She didn't just lop off hands and arms, but instead stabbed and butchered her way through stormtroopers. The troopers, surprised, leapt from their cover as Elena charged in, only to be cut down by precise fire from the rest of the squad. Still, the troopers maintained their discipline, focusing fire on Elena in an attempt to drive her back.

Elena leapt over their wall of blaster fire, landing among them again and attacking with renewed fury. Every swipe of her lightsaber left more dead on the ground, and soon not even the stormtroopers could withstand her. They fell back to the interior of the gun, firing as they did. Meanwhile, Elena fell back to the squad, taking cover besides them and swinging a rifle from her shoulder and into a firing stance. Together, their combined firepower kept the remaining squads of stormtroopers pinned within the building.

Meanwhile, high above the battle below, Garner had reached the tip of the turret. His time in JAN had served him well, and as he selected a thermal detonator from his pack, he reflected on the irony that his peaceful planet had produced him. Then, he activated the detonator, letting it slide down the hatch. As it rattled down, Garner let his rappel line slacken and lower him to the ground. A few meters from the ground, and the detonator exploded, snapping what remained of his cable line.

Garner hit the ground hard, landing on his thigh with a sharp crack. A rock had broken his fall. Grimacing in pain, he glanced up towards the turret's barrel. It had been split by the detonator, leaving it inoperable. He slumped against the ground, exhausted and nearly passing out from pain.

* * *

Scout supposed that the worst part about her dying was the sound. When the clone's elbow blade broke through the front of her chest, she felt pain. Unbelievable pain. But the sound of the blade slicing her skin and cracking her bone was far worse.

She gaped for a second, not quite comprehending what she was seeing. Desperately, she grabbed at the blade, but it was getting smaller, sinking away. All her hands could do was slap against it as it pulled away. Her legs shook violently, and she gradually began falling to her knees, and finally laid face down, blood pooling around her torso. Her lightsaber clattered to the ground besides her, a blue mist rising from where the blade used to be.

Scout could hear the sounds of the clone walking away, his plastoid boots rapping sharply against the stone. For a moment, she heard very little else.

"_He's fast."_Scout thought belatedly. Even with her Precognition and training, the fight had been over before it had started. Despair took over as her mind started to fade. Her thoughts became confused and filled with turmoil. Somehow, Scout was deeply distressed that the red blood was mingling with her hair, despite the gaping wound in her chest. Then, the world went black.

She dreamt of the Temple. Of Master Jai-Maruk. Of Maks Leem, and the mission to Vijun. Of Whie. And finally, like a nightmare come to see her off into the night, she dreamt of Asajj Ventress.

The pale face, gaunt and filled with condensation. It was that look. The look Asajj had given her as she held Scout in a tight grip deep within the catacombs of Malreaux Manor. A mixture of utter indifference, and supreme pity. It was the look the other students at the temple shot at her when they thought she wasn't looking, covering for her failures while looking down on her from their Force held pedestals.

Anger seized Scout. She couldn't die here! No way. If the Force wouldn't help her, she'd pull her body back to life with sheer will. She'd won before like this. By the stars, she could do it again!

These were all futile thoughts though. She knew it somewhere in her shattered consciousness. Scout was dying. She was bleeding to death alone in an alley, and had not even had a chance against her opponent. Her death would make no difference, and that was scarier to Scout than the thought of dying itself. It was like all her masters had suspected; in the real world, she was of little consequence.

Then, sheer white light. A comfortable room, quite similar to the one where she and Whie had confronted Asajj, but colder and farther away. Almost heaven like. None of the hellish appearance it had held before.

There was no Whie standing horrified as the scene of betrayal played out before him. No Fidelis, embarrassed and ashamed at his master's orders. No assassin droids preparing to mow them down without a thought or hesitation. And No Asajj. The _drip_, or _trickle_, or _tap_ of water dousing the fireplace was replaced with a warm breeze on her cheeks.

A flame smoldered in a grate, warm and bright. The furniture looked comfortable and warm, as if it would envelope her in an embrace as she fell into it. All Scout wanted to do was sink into a chair and sleep. She's struggled so long, her whole life. Why didn't she deserve a rest?

And, as Scout felt herself floating away, she heard a voice murmur in her ear.

"You need to go back."

**_Who is the mysterious voice? What will happen to Semreh? Etc, etc... Well, you won't have to wait to long. Please R and R, and thanks to those of you who returned my messages. I just wanted to see how many were reading this before I posted this particular story._**


	68. Chapter 68 Hand on Your Shoulder

**_I think this whole chapter turned out rather well. Thanks to all of you who are reviewing. I'm trying to write like I did when i first started, with more detail and enthusiasm, as the last couple chapters have been rather skimpy. Also, the next chapter or two after this will be a flashback. Allready had it written for literally 3 months, but I didn't know where to place it. Please enjoy._**

* * *

When Semreh awoke, he was surprised to feel a burning in his side. Well, not totally surprised. After all, he'd been shot. However, the itching, burning sensation indicated he was healing, and growing more skin. As he woke up, he realized he was leaning against a wall, his legs sprawled out before him.

Across the room, a girl stood with his holdout blaster centered on his chest, a small crowd of children sleeping behind her. Her eyes were centered on him, alert and filled with barely contained panic.

"You're awake." She murmured, not taking her finger off the trigger.

"Evidently." Semreh turned to pull his sweatshirt up, but thought better of it when her heard the girl give a sharp intake of breathe and raised her weapon.

"I need to check the wound." He explained calmly before continuing to pull his sweatshirt up. She move the gun, but Semreh felt better now that she'd removed her finger from the trigger.

"There's no point. It's completely healed." She tilted her head, confused. "Didn't you know that?"

Semreh was surprised to see she was right. The skin where his wound had been, though red and irritated, was clean and scar-less. He fingered the area gingerly, and began testing his movement by twisting about. Nothing. No pain or even strain.

"It wasn't my doing." Semreh answered distractedly. "I was never good at healing with the Force."

Now that the immediate danger had passed, Semreh turned an eye on the girl. She looked about his age, maybe a little older. Her face was framed with long, raven black hair largely hidden in her grey hoodie. Her eyes were a deep brown, and looked worn out from a lack of sleep. Yet, she moved with a vigor and energy that surprised him.

There was something else too.

"You stopped be from killing that little guy!" Semreh bolted upright in recognition. "The one who shot me!"

"Jasper?" She glanced at the children, a caring, maternal look. "No, I just screamed for you to stop."

Semreh eased himself back down, but he still was not so sure. He vividly remembered being blinded by pure rage after the blaster bolt had rang out. The idea of dying after all these years at the hands of some child had shocked him so much that it had wiped away any linger thoughts of humanity. He'd gladly imagined cleaving through the boy and leaving his smoking husk on the ground. Semreh shuddered. It was startlingly close to the dark side.

And before he could make that mistake, the girl had stopped him. He was sure of it. One second, he'd been trapped in a torrent of emotions and blind instinct. The next, he'd been jerked back into the confusing clarity of reality. Something, or someone, had pulled him back to the present.

"So," Semreh looked at his wrists with feigned interest, "No binders, or any rope or cable." He raised an eyebrow towards her. "You really know how to make a prisoner feel welcome."

Jenna lowered her weapon slowly, bowing her head and pulling her knees up to her chin. Semreh felt his heart plunge, and his guard slipping. Quickly, he propped it back up, reinforcing the cynical wall around his heart. He'd been shot enough for one day.

"I'm guessing you're smart enough to realize that if I want to leave at this point, you can't stop me." Semreh continued as he got to his feet, shaking dirt and filth from the ground off. For a second, the girl watched him with wide eyes, but then looked back down, staring at her feet.

"And I know those mercs weren't trying to protect you for nothing, so I'm guessing you're their bomb maker."

Again, no response.

"Logically," Semreh felt at his belt, finding his lightsaber attached, "Killing or capturing you would be a major blow." He ignited the blade, steeling his heart and face. He'd long ago learned to do what was necesary. Still...

Nothing. She just sat, meek and defeated, looking more tired than scared.

Semreh hesitated, and deactivated the saber with a sharp hiss. "But you're not a willing participant are you. That's your relation to the kids. Hostages?"

"My name is Jenna." The girl looked up, looking miserable and broken. "I was their mother at an orphanage. I can't leave them behind, and I can't take them with me. If I don't do what they say, they'll kill them, and make me watch."

Semreh nodded. It was a common predicament in hostage situations, and not one easily solved.

"You could bring them with me." Semreh offered, sympathy again cracking his wall. "We could protect them and you-"

"You don't get it do you?" The girls voice rose sharply, and she glared angrily at him. "These aren't idiot terrorist looking to mindlessly kill. They want to kill you! Or at least capture you. I, the kids, this entire planet is bait meant to draw you out. They'll kill and kill until you come out and-"

She was cut off as a ringing from Semreh's belt caught their attention. Semreh raised a finger and activated the comlink, cranking the volume up loud enough for them both to hear.

"Yes?"

"Jedi Semreh?" A garbled voice came through shakily, but Semreh could see the vague outline of one of the Chasers back at the base. "We have an update on the situation. You really need to hear this."

"Sure it can't wait?"

"Definitely not."

The comlink crackled, and the attached holoprojector activated, displaying a scene from the busiest street in Zehava. Of course, Semreh was forced to do a double take before he recognized it. The place was a disaster zone, filled with bodies and rubble. From below, Semreh heard Jenna gasp.

"But I destroyed the detonator." Semreh shook his head disbelievingly, forcing any horror he felt down with cold logic. "I deactivated it myself."

"This wasn't a bomb." The Chaser hesitated before zooming in the picture. "We caught this on one of the security projectors." The screen zoomed in on one of the comlink booths dotting the sidewalk, close enough for Semreh to make out a young girl bent over, screaming as she clutched and pulled at her golden hair.

"Tara?" Semreh's gripped tightened on the projector. Had Tara caused this? Was her lack of control responsible for the death of a city?

"Well, we have a second problem as well." The Chaser paused for a moment before bringing up a map onto the holoprojector of Semreh's datapad. The map of Zehava was marked, showing the six blinking dots the Chasers had tracked as the highly explosive bombs.

"_Wait, six!?"_

"Jenna, how many bombs did these guys make you create?"

"Five."

"You hear that Chaser?" Semreh looked back into the holoscreen, seeing the Chaser working frantically.

"I do indeed. And guess where the extra sixth bomb is?" Again, the holoscreen zoomed, rising up towards one of the only remaining intact buildings. Semreh felt his heart plummet. Without a word, he switched the datapad/comlink off, hurrying towards the door of the worn down building.

Before he left, he turned to Jenna. "I'll be back, and I will come up with some way to help you. I promise."

The girl shook her head. "You know those transmitters the Outer Rim worlds use to track slaves and…and blow them up if they run."

Semreh nodded. The situation needed no further explanation.

Silently, without a word, Semreh leapt into the night. He had his own problems to worry about now.

* * *

Scout felt herself being pulled back down. It was startlingly similar to her experience in the Temple, but at the same time more real and horrifying. She tried to answer the voice. It sounded so darn familiar, but Scout's oxygen starved brain couldn't comprehend it. All she knew was what it was saying.

"You have to go back to the beginning. You need to go back to YOUR beginning."

Scout struggled to ask the question burning in her. What beginning? Her home planet was Vorzyd V, but she'd barely lived there. Back to the Temple? It was a smoldering ruin on Coruscant. What beginning?

Her mind's eye seemed to explode, shattering the room before her. The walls fell apart like glace, fragmenting and scattering as if cast aside by a massive palm. They played images from her life, pale memories caught of her small existence. Memories she didn't remember, but somehow knew.

**Flash**

She was a tiny baby, carried away in the arms of a faceless Jedi Master, her parents left behind in the slums of a decrepit city. The tiny hovel they lived in looked like it could fall apart a moment's notice. A fragile life she'd been saved, or taken from. The man and women in the doorway stared at the retreating back of the master, looking sad and relieved at the same time. She recognized the woman's red hair as her own, and the man looked like he had her thin, wiry frame and green eyes.

Scout felt an urge to be held by the woman, coddled by the man. All she wanted was for them to hurry after her and take her from these strange arms. But they just watched sadly as Scout was carried away.

**Flash**

Scout was a youngling again, stepping onto the training mat of the Temple for the first time. The timid crowds of young Jedi learners crowded together, little islands charged with nervous energy, before being paired up by the Masters. The unfamiliar air and cushy feel of the mat beneath her unsettled Scout as she looked across the mat.

Her fellow youngling opponent was Sisseri Deo. The tall Firrerreo's skin was nervously shifting rapidly between gold and pale silver. They stepped out to meet each other, Master Yoda guiding them touched hands and began the combat sport "Push-feather".

The goal was to use the Force to throw telekinetic pushes at each other, trying to unbalance your opponent. Scout was thrown back every time, landing hard on the mats. She could barely sense, let alone block, Sisseri's blows, and her own blows, when they came, were either too weak or wildly out of control. Several of the Master's watching shook their heads when they thought she wasn't looking.

**Flash**

Older, but still a youngling, and eight year-old Scout hurried through the halls of the Temple, her tiny legs pumping. She was late for hyperspace navigation class, and was already struggling to keep up in the rest of her lessons.

As she neared the room, she noticed another padawan standing outside the room, glimpsing past the door through the glass window. Scout recognized her as Lena Missa, though the two of them had rarely, if ever, spoken. Her blue Chagrian lethorns shaking slightly with concern.

"You're late too?" Scout asked, breathless and wiping her hair out of her eyes.

"Yeah, and look who's teaching."

Scout glimpsed into the room, and her stomach dropped. Inside, Master Iron Hand was pacing before the class, lecturing them on the importance of not sending your ship hurtling into a black hole. Any hope for leniency Scout had felt was lost.

"What do we do?" Lena murmured, nervously playing with the lehorn hanging from her head.

Then, Scout had an idea. She reacted instantly, lashing out with her foot at the Chagrian girl's ankle.

"Sorry." Scout whispered, wrapping an arm around Lena's shoulder as she hopped angrily on one foot. Then she opened the door, looking breathless and like she was struggling to help Lena inside.

"What happened?" Iron Hand barked from her position in front of the class.

"Lena twisted her ankle." Scout explained quickly. For a moment, Lena looked bewildered, but Scout's fellow padawan caught on, and put on a face of not so fake pain.

"Ah, I see. Well, shouldn't you be helping her down to the infirmary and not dragging her to class?" Master Iron Hand's eyes lit up with suspicion, and no small amount of gentle amusement. The two girls bobbed their heads enthusiastically, retreating out the door as soon as they had permission.

"Good plan." Lena murmured as they walked leisurely down the hallway. "Got a plan for how we can convince them that I have a sprained ankle?"

"Hey, I'm making this up as I go." Scout paused for a moment before continuing. "We could ACTUALLY sprain your ankle!"

The two girls laughed, a friendship already blossoming between them.

**Flash**

Scout was fighting, her new saber dancing in the light the dimly lit training room. Across from her, the haunty Hanna Ding was spinning away from the fight, twisting to bring her saber at Scout from some complicated and new angle. Scout moved to parry, but a twist from Hanna's wrist sent the blade flashing across her chest. As Scout bent over in pain, the Arkanian girl slapped her saber against the back of her neck, ending the match.

Afterwards, Scout lay on the mat, spread-eagled and exhausted on the soft training mat. The room was empty, but Scout heard a pair of soft heeled boots slide inside. Master Llena Xan, also known as Iron Hand, squatted over Scout, looking down at her with a small smile.

"You're awfully tenacious, aren't you?"

Scout rolled over, crossing her legs as she looked up at the tall Jedi Master.

"I'm still not good enough though." She mumbled, head hung as tears welled in her eyes. Her shoulders sagged as she began to sob, but a hand clasping her shoulder in a firm grip caused her to look up.

The hard face of Master Iron Hand had broken into a broad and encouraging smile. "We'll just have to change that."

**Flash**

Scout wrestled wildly with a boy twice her size and girth, fighting desperately to keep from being pinned. As the fight over leverage and position continued, Scout could feel herself losing to her opponent in both the physical match and the Force. Before long, boy had her pinned, a massive arm wrapped tightly around her neck, choking off her breathe.

Desperate for air, Scout reacted instinctively. She bit deep into the boy's arm, and chewed. The boy screamed his grip slackening. Her breathe back, she ducked out of his looped arm and turned to deliver a powerful boot to his stomach. The boy fell backward, and landed with a small thud.

Scout was on him in a second, dropping a powerful chokehold on him. For seven seconds, Scout held her breathe and held on despite the boys thrashing arms until, finally, he lay still. Scout rose up, expecting applause or, at least, murmurs of approval.

Instead, many of the on looking masters looked disturbed, and only a few halfheartedly clapped their hands. What's more, she could practically feel their pity and concern for her actions radiating from them. Scout gave a confused look around, searching out Master Iron Hand, but could not find her. A little confused and shamefacedly, Scout hurried off the mats, leaving the room without a word.

_What do I karking have to do!?_ She sprinted through the corridors, turning her head to the side to hide her wet eyes. She ran and ran until her legs could carry her no farther. Then, she found the smoothest part of the carved stone wall she could, buried her head in her robes and cried.

Scout stayed like this for a couple solid minutes, wallowing in self pity. In a short couple months, she'd be shipped off to the Agricultural Corp, doomed to spend the rest of her days hacking at dirt with a hoe and planting seeds in dry sandy soil. A few months, and her dreams of being a Jedi would be gone.

A hand touched her shoulder, pulling Scout to her feet. It was a Jedi Knight, a woman with deep blue eyes, and a gentle smile on her lips and embedded deep in her eyes.

"Now, why are you crying?" The Jedi Knight asked patting her on the head. "You won after all?"

"It doesn't matter." Scout sniffled, wiping her face with her robe. "I'm still just a farmer, no matter how hard I work."

The Jedi Knight frowned for a moment, but soon covered it with another encouraging grin before sitting down besides the small Jedi. Scout took a good look at her. She was human, or very close to it, and had a welcome encouraging face that seemed to cheer Scout up just by looking at it. Her auburn hair was tied back in a short pony tail, and her face was framed by jagged bangs.

"Well, the galaxy is full of farmers." The Jedi Knight mused, patting Scout on the head. "I doubt the galaxy needs more."

Scout hung her head in despair again, but the Knight tapped her forehead good-naturedly.

"On the other hand," The Knight stroked her chin, as if deep in thought, "There are still thousands of Jedi. I doubt one more would make a difference. However," The Knight beamed down at Scout, "There is, and forever will be, only one of you. And more than anything, I like to think the galaxy could use more of your guts, rather than another average Jedi."

Scout sniffled, but a small smile slid across her face.

"That's great, but it still doesn't really solve my problem."

The Jedi Master laughed aloud. Getting to her feet, she offered Scout a hand. Scout took it, letting herself be pulled to her feet.

"Just hold on." The Knight said. "Sometimes, that's all you can do."

**Flash **

"But why can't I come!?" Scout practically whined, chasing after her Master's retreating back.

Chankar Kim sighed heavily, turning to face her distressed padawan. Around them, the Jedi hanger bay was a bustle of activity as Jedi Masters, Knights, and padawans hurried to a varied collection of starfighters and transports.

"Master Windu was very specific that only experienced Master and Padawan teams were to join him. You and I have hardly been together long enough for that."

"But this mission would be good experience for me! Besides," Scout added, looking at the hundreds of Jedi around her, "I doubt we'd be in any danger with this many Jedi. Master Windu would never notice me tagging along."

Chankar almost considered it, looking around the room. Then she laughed heartily. "Yeah, this many Jedi must seem a little overkill, heh Scout?" She stopped laughing abruptly, shaking her head back into focus. "Still, Master Windu was very specific, so no."

Scout's eyes fell, and she turned her head to keep her tears from showing. Chankar, who had had one foot on the latter to her starfighter, paused and climbed back down, taking a knee besides Scout. She wiped aside Scout's tears and looked her level in the eyes.

"Don't worry." Master Kim said, tilting her head in a wry smile and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I like to think the Force has a plan for us all Scout, even if we can't always sense it. So, the Force will be with you…Sorta."

Scout laughed despite herself. It was a private joke she and Master Kim had developed over their few months together. 'Spitting at the face of weakness' Master Kim called it. Whereas other Masters clearly viewed her weakness in the Force as a crippling factor of her training, Master Kim took it as a challenge and laughed at it, mocking it, daring it to try and prevent Scout from being a Jedi.

"That's my girl." Master Kim patted Scout on the head before clambering back up into her starfighter.

"Are you sure I can't come?" Scout called after her in a desperate attempt to convince her.

Chankar laughed. "I'll let you come along on the next mission. Let's polish off a few more of those rough edges first. You can come on next time, I promise."

Master Kim jumped into her cockpit, leaving only her head visible to Scout from the hanger below, and soon even that was obscured by the cockpit glass sliding forward.

A nervous twitch moved her hands as a chill ran down Scout's spine, but she dismissed it.

"May the Force be with you Master Kim."

**Flash**

Scout screamed. She shrieked. She beat at the wall of her room until her knuckles left bloody smears on the sterile grey. She wanted to take her lightsaber and hack at it until she broke through, until the wall was left as shattered as her life. This wall, this stupid wall. All she could do was attack it.

Again and again, Scout kicked, punched and beat the hapless wall, unable to think. No, not unable, but certainly not wanting to. If she stopped she'd think, and then she'd remember. She'd remember the shattered bodies brought back to the Temple by the few remaining Jedi and a few faceless soldiers. She'd remember the held breathe of hundreds of Jedi and padawans as they searched the crowd of corpses for familiar faces.

She'd remember recognizing one, but not from her face. Her body was so shattered, so broken, that only the unique lightsaber she carried let Scout recognize her Master from the rest of the pile.

She'd remember sitting besides the body, numbly feeling the scorched, dusty robes her Master had worn on her last mission. She'd distantly wondered where the sand had come from, and some part of her had known she couldn't just sit there like that. Another part of her had known that she couldn't cry, not here in front of the rest of the Jedi.

Finally, Scout had been unable to take it anymore. She rose, her face stoic and tear free. She left the room in a hurry, ignoring a distant call from Lena Missa. She was the only one who noticed her leave. The rest were too concerned with the hundreds of other Jedi. Scout had hurried to her room, shutting the door and activating the privacy light. Then, Scout let go.

By the time she finished, Scout's right hand felt shattered and broken and her foot ached from kicking at things in her room. The wall and her bedpost were smeared with blood from her hand. It throbbed dully, but Scout could barely feel it. Everything felt numb. Inside and out.

Scout could feel one thing though. It was as if, deep in her stomach, something were tearing at her. An animal with wicked claws and a ferocious appetite was eating her alive. Some rodent or other dark animal. Scout had felt pain before. She'd felt despair, and fear, and sadness. She'd been lonely most of her life, and anger was an old unwelcome friend of hers. But this was new.

For once in her life, Scout had had hope. For once, she'd known that she would be a Jedi. There had been no doubt in her mind. To have that ripped from her, to lose that which had given her direction and hope…That was the worst wound she'd received.

Finally, Scout lay down on her cot, unmoving. The rest of the day was a blur. She felt as though she were merely going through the motions of her life, as if someone had put her on autopilot.

She wept as she lay in her dark room for hours. She silently cried as she wandered through the Room of a Thousand Fountains, her own tears mixing with those drops crashing from the waterfall. She bawled into her food, eaten in some secluded corner of the Temple.

She sobbed quietly that night, as line after line of Jedi Master stepped forward to a pyre. Over a hundred of them. One by one, each pyre caught, blazing brilliantly until the stars above disappeared one by one, leaving the sky dark and lonely. The stars were gone, obscured by the light of a hundred burning Jedi.

Some Jedi did weep silently. All radiated grief in the Force. Grief and fear. The aura of invincibility the Jedi had created from decades of victory was gone. The Temple was lessened, like a half inflated balloon doomed to sink lower and lower each day. For Scout though, there was only one thing she could think of. There was no hand on her shoulder this time.

Once again, she was alone.

**Flash**

Distantly, she watched the room shrink away from her, becoming fainter and darker. A small white dot seemed to dance in front of her eyes, dragging her pupils back and forth. The light jerked forward, enveloping her.

Finally, Scout felt her eyes slide open. Her face ached horribly, and she groaned as she sat up. Kneeling besides her, dusting his hands off, was Jolon. Blood coated his wrists and arms, and Scout realized with a small cringe of horror that it was her blood.

"What happened?" He asked, his face coldly impassionate.

"It was the clone. The one with the knives." Scout shook her head, still not quite unable to believe how fast he'd been. His body had flickered, and then disappeared.

"A clone assassin." Jolon growled, annoyed. The appearance of one of them would complicate many things. "Fighting one of them head to head was foolish. When I sent you two after them, I assumed you'd work together. What possessed you to split up?"

"It wasn't our fault!" Scout protested, struggling to her feet. "The clone stayed behind to by time for the rest of those people. It was this, or we'd lose them."

That concerned Jolon. Through the Force, Jolon had felt Semreh being greviously injured. Of course, the safeguards Jolon had placed on Semreh through their connection in the Force had healed him. He had invested too much in the boy for him to die this soon.

So, when Jolon had first met Semreh, when he had broken the barriers the Jedi Council had placed on his mind to restrain his Force energy, Jolon had also carefully placed a bond, similar to the one he'd placed on Tara to restrain her power. Like Tara's bond, Semreh's bond siphoned energy from Jolon's own considerable reserves of Force power.

However, where Tara's bond used that energy to restrain her power, Semreh's bond used the siphoned energy to instantly begin healing any injury he received. Jolon had deliberately avoided revealing this bond to Semreh. He would no doubt have complained and protested the action, but in situations like this, it could save the boy's life.

"Come on." Jolon said, picking up Scout's body, but she shook him off.

"I can walk!' She snapped, stumbling to her feet.

"I just healed a hole in your chest the size of a rancor's spit." Jolon grabbed her shoulder, forcing her into a sitting position against the wall. "Rest. I'm going to check on Semreh."

"What about him?"

Jolon hesitated, unsure whether to tell the clearly distressed girl his suspicions.

"I sensed him getting grievously injured, but now he's moving…somewhere and is very distressed."

Scout shook her head, still disoriented.

"Go, I'll be fine." She assured him, leaning heavily on the wall as she struggled to her feet. "I-I need to head back to the base. Go."

Jolon hesitated again, considering helping the girl back to base. Then, cold logic took over. The girl was alive and relatively well. Semreh on the other hand had been injured and was upset about something. Add to that the large amounts of Force energy Jolon could feel Tara draining from him, and something was certainly up. That drain was probably due to an extreme strain on the barriers he'd created for her, which meant she was either losing control, or unleashing her power. The obvious lack of earthquakes or a mushroom cloud indicated the former.

"Careful. That wound came closer to your spine than I can bring myself to repeat." Jolon warned, before hurrying down the twisted alleyways, his long coat wrapped tightly around him. Whatever was going on, Jolon intended to at least be there to witness whatever was creating this surge of power.

* * *

Semreh followed the Force, letting it guide him through the city. It tugged and pulled on his conscious, like a young child excited to show him something. Drawing him towards the nexus of energy he sensed whirling about Tara.

_Please let me be on time_. He thought desperately, holding his saber in one hand, his clenched fist in the other. He'd been too late once before, and he wouldn't let it happen again.

_She could already be dead._ A quiet little voice whispered from the back of his mind, but Semreh crushed it. There was no time for worry, or even ancient regret. He would not fail Tara like he failed Zule. Like he failed Mal Lotor, and Vaabesh, and the rest of the padawans on Jabiim. Like how he failed Stan Reath. Like he failed Aubrie Wyn. Like he failed Heri.

**_Yes, this next one will be a Semreh flashback. But I'd like to hear your opinions on the Scout Flashbacks. Good, bad, boring...etc?_**

**_Thanks again for R and R!_**


	69. Chapter 69 Old Friends

**_This story takes place a few months before the opening of the Clone Wars. Enjoy!_**

Gerik smiled down at his daughter, Kara, and patted her on the head. "Nice work. I haven't seen knots like that since…well, me."

His daughter smiled, wiping grease off her hands and onto her pants. "Thanks dad. I think this should hold for the trap. No way some fat security guard makes his way out of this!"

Gerik grinned down at his little girl. Pride coursed through him. He'd trained her since she turned thirteen, teaching her everything he knew. Gradually, his little girl had turned into a hunter to rival her dad. Traps, marksmanship, and tracking were the skills of the trade, and Gerik hadn't spared any time making sure she was ready.

The turmoil of the galaxy at this time made for an ideal environment for a bounty hunter to work in. Gerik was making more money per year than even the most corrupt senator, and that was saying a lot. Logically, it should have been time for him to retire to some tropical planet and watch the grass grow. However, his baby girl wasn't quite on her feet yet.

See, although he had trained her and was absolutely confident in her abilities, employers wanted experienced bounty hunters, and Kara had yet to go on a single mission. So, Gerik was taking her on this one. It was both a test for her, and a family bonding experience for Gerik. Though he and his wife had divorced long ago, Kara was all Gerik really need in his life.

"All right." Gerik murmured, holding up the net made of rope twisted from the strangle vines of Endor. "Now, we know the Senator from Ibo Jin will meet with the Prime Minister of Ibo Hin, and that the recent events with their trading disputes with their sister planet, Ibo Hin, have led to increased security around government figures."

Gerik pulled out a map stolen from the government archives of Ibo Hin. On it, outlined in red, was the route the Senator from Ibo Hin would take on his way to meet with the Prime Minister. It was an unnecessarily twisting and curving route, meant to confuse assassins and kidnappers. Amazing how such a good plan was made useless by the lax attention of one government bureaucrat.

"So, I say we take him here." Gerik planted a finger on the most deserted part of the map, where the bend of one of the many country roads was widest. "They'll be traveling on foot to avoid attention, so it won't be hard to remove the guards and drag the Senator into the countryside before reinforcements arrive."

He looked up from the map, and saw that Kara was frowning. "You disagree?"

"Actually, yes." She nodded, circling a part of the map marked as the local marketplace. "Why not here? The crowds would give us cover."

"Yeah, but it would also make collateral damage likely. Our employer doesn't want Galactic sympathy roused by this. Quick and clean."

"But if we could force him down one of the alleys," She drew her finger along the many side routes exiting the marketplace, "We could be to the spaceport and out of here before their security even knows he's missing."

Gerik stroked the tiny hairs that had begun sprouting from his chin. He needed to shave. The plan had merit, but again there was the problem of getting the Senator down the alleyway without his security detail noticing. They would be all over him, so the only way to divert him…

"We would have to bring him down there of his own free will." He mused under his breath.

"Well," Kara murmured, taking a deep breath before flashing her brightest, most charming grin, "Daddy, I have an idea for that too."

* * *

"Less makeup." Gerik ordered as soon as his daughter walked out of the dressing room of their tiny hotel room.

She rolled her eyes. "The Senator has to notice me Daddy. Besides," She looked in one of the nearby mirrors and giggled slightly, "I think this looks good. Maybe a few nice boys will talk to me."

Gerik suddenly realized he was grinding his teeth. He stopped, though couldn't help but think that any boy that wanted to strike up a conversation with his baby girl was a colossally stupid man. Not that she wasn't attractive. Really, she was. Kara was tan from having spent so much time outdoors with her father in the wilderness, and her heart shaped face was perfect and angelic. Even her hair, normally tied into a tight ponytail, hung behind her like a liquid black river.

However, she had a lethality to her stance that said, 'Touch me, and I'll touch you where it hurts'. Add that to the fact that Gerik planned to have a wall of heads for her boyfriends, and she was looking pretty dangerous to the hormonally challenged.

Gerik loosened his grinding teeth as he realized his daughter was laughing at him. "Don't worry Dad; I won't let any boy get to me. Business first, love second." She went back into the dressing room for a few moments. When she finally exited, she was smiling. "Well, how do I look?"

You know how every father feels when he sees his little girl going off to some date or dance. When he finally sees she's grown up. Well, Gerik felt all those feelings flooding into him at that moment. True, she was going off to lure some unsuspecting Senator to his capture and kidnapping, but still.

She was wearing a tan skirt that ended just three inches above her knees, and a black tee-shirt under an open tan jacket with a high collar. Both the jacket and the skirt and intricate silvery patterns stitched across it. Kara smiled slyly and gave a twirl. Her hair, no longer in its tight ponytail, swung behind her.

"So, think he'll go for it."

Gerik bit down any comment he might have had about the shortness of the skirt, or the makeup. "It'll do."

* * *

A few hours later, Gerik watched as Kara laughed and joked, her arm escorted by the Senator. Around them, the security detail of four armed guards was watching everything, in the crowded marketplace, but there was obviously too many people for them to recognize every threat. This made them uneasy. At first, they'd even tried to insist that Kara leave, but the Senator had insisted they escort her. She'd batted her eyelashes and laughed at some idiotic joke of his that wasn't even funny. The Senator just grinned stupidly, and continued on. For a moment, Gerik wondered whether it was still a good idea to capture the senator this way.

They're employer, who had remained anonymous throughout their transactions, had been adamant about their orders. They were to grab the senator, and drag him to one of the nearby moons using a ship from the spaceport.

Therefore, Kara's plan, would make the getaway easier. The spaceport where their ship was waiting was a mere block away, and the convoluted streets would be impossible to navigate for the guards. However, it also required precise timing on both their parts, and the guards were probably expecting it.

The plan was for, when the Senator was near the alleyway where Gerik was hiding; Kara would claim a nearby man stole her purse. Kara would then make as much chaos as possible and in the ensuing riot; Gerik would drag the Senator from his security and make a run for the spaceport.

It was a good plan. Too bad those are the plans that never worked as planned.

* * *

The low hum of the archives was almost soothing as Semreh settled into a chair. He pulled up one of the older archive records.

"The Adventures of Jolee Bindo." He murmured to himself, scanning over the pages of the ancient document on the screen. "Interesting."

Semreh loved these moments. The history of the Jedi Order and the galaxy was rich and deep. Since his adoption by Master Nostwa as a padawan a few months ago, he had been so busy on missions that coming to the archives hadn't really been an option. Now, for a brief time, they had a break. Semreh planned to take advantage of this. Reading, sleeping, and acting as lazy as possible.

Semreh groaned. "_I should probably practice in the training room_." He thought, shutting down his terminal with a growl. "_My_ _lightsaber_ _skills_ _could still use some_ _work_." Form VI, being a combination of all the forms, required far more work and practice in order to be effective.

He gathered up his things to leave, but stopped when he saw fellow padawan Heri. The pale faced red headed padawan had recently been chosen by Master Dia as her padawan, and the pair of them had been as busy as Semreh and his master in recent months. Semreh couldn't claim to know either of them that well. All he knew about Heri was from his lightsaber technique and rumors. He was a loud mouthed apprentice, easily coaxed into traps of footwork and swordplay. He was powerful in the Force, but was hot tempered and Semreh had rarely lost to him due to this. In short, he was, in Semreh's opinion, a moron who allowed his emotion to guide his hand.

"The Council wants to see us both." He explained quickly, grabbing Semreh's arm and practically dragging him out of the archives. "You can read dusty old books later. They said it was important."

Semreh sighed and followed. "I don't suppose I'm going to get a rest, huh?"

* * *

Master Nostwa leaned lightly on her left leg. She'd sprained her right ankle during her last mission, though it had hardly impeded her abilities. In fact, the constant gnawing pain on her leg kind of helped her focus. Kept her on edge.

She surveyed the many masters of the Jedi Council, waiting for the last two members of their meeting, her own padawan and Padawan Heri. Of all the Jedi there, they were the last to arrive. No doubt Heri had had to drag Semreh away from some holobook or deserted nook in the archives.

Across the room, waiting patiently at his master's side, was padawan Stam Reath. A young apprentice, his blue eyes were bright and joyful as he gazed around the room. He was hardly experienced, but was obviously going to be a fine Jedi.

Stam's master, Master Echu Shen-Jon glanced over at Nostwa and gave a small smile. No doubt he was thinking the same thing. He'd sent Heri because the impetuous and loud padawan would probably be the only one able to pull Semreh away.

Master Nostwa forced a grin back, but was silently impatient for her padawan to return. A Jedi was supposed to be ready to leave whenever the moment came, and Semreh was keeping some very important Jedi waiting.

Among the Jedi there was Master Sirrius and his padawan Aubrie Wyn. He was a young man with a weathered face and goatee that just didn't seem to match his age. Though a skilled teacher Jedi, he was better known as a skilled healer. His padawan was equally accomplished, and had even been considered for personal training under Mace Windu in recent months. Master Nostwa was actually a little surprised to see her here, and not working in the infirmary.

Jedi Knight Serra Keto had not taken a padawan, but was there and standing a little outside of the other Jedi Masters. Out of the Jedi who had taken the Jedi trials, she was the youngest, and she looked a little out of place, but confident. After all, she'd been trained by the legendary Cin Drallig, who was arguably the greatest duelist in the Order. She was known for her fiery temper and aggressive dual lightsaber style, along with her lithe grace and beauty.

Finally, there was Master Dia, a Caamasi Knight whose padawan had been the one sent off after Semreh. They were an odd pair. The Caamasi was a furred, peaceful species that smelled faintly like Corellian whiskey. Heri, a human, was shorter and lankier than his grey furred master, was widely considered…not weak in the Force, but he just wasn't Jedi-like.

It wasn't that he didn't try. Honestly, Nostwa and every other padawan in the Temple saw his hard work. It was just that he was clumsy, not too bright, and reckless. He was powerful in the Force, but his emotions seemed to run wild. During lightsaber duels, despite the fact that Nostwa considered Heri far more skilled with the lightsaber, and even stronger in the Force, than her own padawan was, Semreh easily won most of their duels. Heri was easily tricked and fooled, and her strategizing padawan always managed to out maneuver him.

To be honest, Nostwa didn't understand how he'd been chosen as a padawan. Master Dia was a great master whose connection to the Force was extremely strong. She was skilled, smart, and emotionally under control. Naturally gifted. The fact was they were opposites.

There was a hiss behind the Jedi. In stomped Heri leading a mildly annoyed Semreh by the arm. Of course, you'd only know he was annoyed through the Force. His face was deceptively passive and restrained.

"Ah, now that everyone is here, perhaps we can begin." Master Mace Windu leaned forward in his chair, eyeing them all.

"As you all know, the sister planets Ibo Hin and Ibo Jin have recently been subject to serious unrest."

"The planet Ibo Jin is particularly furious." Master Ki-Adi-Mundi warned. "Their Senator was kidnapped a week ago and taken by terrorists off planet. The Prime Minister of Ibo Jin has declared an unofficial preparation for war, and he's begun stockpiling weapons."

Nostwa nodded. The two planets were extraordinarily important for trade between the Mid and Outer Rim. Lying right in the middle of one of the major hyperspace lanes, the two planet's gravity fields created a natural pull for ships coming out of hyperspace, allowing them precision jump to those planets and refuel when in trouble.

Both planets had benefited from trade, but recent years had seen the two constantly at odds. Ibo Jin had recently invested heavily in a massive defense fleet, in order to protect their space. Ibo Hin was not willing to spend money on a fleet of fighters, and so had been forced to try and force Ibo Jin to stand down through threats and kidnappings.

"Ibo Hin has gone too far this time." Mace Windu commented, looking at Yoda.

"A dangerous situation this is." Yoda explained. "Unless returned the Senator is, war there will be. Devastating to the Republic war is."

"At the same time," Mace Windu continued, "We can't rely on the return of the Senator. We have only a vague idea of where the terrorists might have taken the Senator, and if Ibo Jin moves with its weapons, it will destroy Ibo Hin. Meanwhile, Ibo Hin has attempted to make a deal with Baktoid workshops to provide them with weapons to defend themselves from 'Ibo Jin aggression."

"An Alliance like this could possibly upset the delicate balance that has been in place there for centuries." Master Ki-Adi-Mundi finished. "Therefore, we are sending an extra large squad of Jedi to defuse the situation." He nodded at each of them, one at a time. "Masters Nostwa and Dia will go to where we suspect the Senator is being held and free him."

"Meanwhile, Master Sirrus and Echu Shen-Jon will go to Ibo-Jin and attempt to calm the Prime Minister, while Jedi Knight Serra Keto leads Padawan Semreh, Aubire, Stam, and Heri to the location of Ibo Jin's ground based fleet and destroy it."

"Listen Ibo Jin will if humbled they are." Yoda agreed reluctantly. "But peace keepers we are. Reservations I have."

"As do I." Master Echu Shen-Jon agreed. "I sense there is more to this situation than meets the eye."

"I agree." Master Dia's furry nose wrinkled slightly in worry. "Why split up the padawans from the masters?"

"The rescue of the Senator will take far more finesse then the simple detonation of some weapons supplies. The masters will deal with that, while Jedi Keto leads the padawans in the mission to destroy Ibo Jin's ability to destroy Ibo Hin."

"This seems like a mission better suited for commandos or the Republic Judicial Forces." Master Nostwa felt one of her head tails curl in annoyance and concern. "This seems like the Jedi Order is taking sides during a war."

"The galaxy is increasingly violent." Mace Windu rubbed his bald head, as if tired. "So, if we use a little to promote a greater peace, we must. Besides," He added, "The Chancellor is the one who suggested it."

The Masters and Padawans all nodded and voiced their agreements. Nostwa had no problem with the plan. It was violent, but it would save lives. And if that wasn't the will of the Force, what was? It was simple and direct. Just her style.

"Very well." Mace Windu nodded. "You will leave soon. May the Force be with you all."

* * *

None of the masters said much in the hanger bay. Master Nostwa wished her padawan good luck as he boarded the unmarked freighter that would take them to Ibo Jin.

"Be careful." She warned, not feeling remarkably worried. Semreh had been on solo missions before, and he'd always gotten the job done.

"I will master." Her padawan looked annoyed, and was eyeing the rest of the padawans out of the corner of his eye. Nostwa felt a frown tug at her lips.

"I know you don't normally hang around the other padawans, but try to cooperate with them." She let a small smile slide across her face. "Think of it as teamwork training."

"Whatever you say master." Semreh looked the whole group of padawans up and down, letting his gaze linger on Heri for a moment. "Just hope I don't end up having to protect any of them."

Nostwa frowned. "That sounds like arrogance Semreh." She warned. "Be mindful of your feelings."

"Yes Master." Semreh bowed and nodded. "Thank you."

With that, he turned on his boot heel, and followed the rest of the padawans and Serra Keto into the ship.

**_I'll Post the next chapter soon. Please Read and Review. And Merry Christmas!!!_**


	70. Chapter 70 Old Enemies

**_Long one. Please enjoy and review_**

When Gerik and Kara finally made it to Ibo Kin, the moon orbiting Ibo Jin, with the Senator in tow, they were only mildly surprised to see their employer waiting for them. The man, heavily bandaged from head to toe and wearing a long cloak and dark clothes that covered his legs and waist, was actually standing at the landing platform as their shuttle touched down. The only parts of his body that were not bandaged was his mouth and parts covered by his clothing.

The base itself was nothing special. The moon had atmosphere, so there had at one point been an insignificant military base planted there. However, it had been abandoned, and any materials stripped. In the end, all that remained was a landing bay and a small shack of a building.

Kara dragged the heavily sedated Senator from the ship, rolling him down the ramp with a gentle nudge of her foot. They strode down the ramp together, side by side, father and daughter.

Gerik stood before his employer, resting a hand on his young daughter's shoulder. "You can transfer my credits to her account. I plan to retire after this."

He felt Kara jerk slightly under his grip, but he held her tight. Whatever reservations she may have about accepting charity, they could discuss it later in private. No matter how good she was, she'd need some credits to get started.

"Ah, well Gerik." Their employer smiled. "I don't believe you have completely filled your contractual obligations."

"Really?" Gerik leaned back ever so slightly on his heels and let his hand drift towards the blaster at his belt. "What makes you think that?"Betrayal was common enough in the galaxy, especially when large sums of credits were involved.

"Relax." The figure smiled, holding his hands out in a gesture of peace. "I simply need you to perform one more task. In return, I will triple your salary."

Gerik sputtered for a moment. Just a moment. Quickly, he regained his composure. "That's a lot of money. What's the catch?"

"No catch." The figure smiled again, as if he'd heard a silent joke. "I simply need one or two more tasks from you." He whistled and, from a building near the abandoned spaceport, a familiar figure walked out.

He was a tall, gangly fellow, with a long coat that fell around his ankles, and a wide brimmed hat that shadowed his eyes.

"Linus!?" Gerik squinted, trying to glimpse the figure. "Is that you?"

"Ay." Linus answered, stepping into the light. A wiry man who stood at least a foot taller than Gerik, Linus was a bounty hunter and mercenary much like Gerik.

However, unlike Gerik, he had standards. For whatever reason, Linus refused to offer his services to big corporations or governments. Instead, he constantly allied himself with the "underdogs". Various rebellions and anarchist groups made use of his abilities. More often than not, when these groups took power, Linus would join the remnants of the old regime, and end up fighting against his previous employers.

Financially, it was brilliant. Get paid by the rebels, who then became the legitimate government, then get paid by both sides during the inevitable unrest that would follow. Of course, this gave one a lot of enemies. Gerik figured Linus would have died by now, assassinated by one side or another.

"So, you want to retire?" Linus murmured, looking his old comrade and rival up and down. "Aren't you a little young?"

"Working too hard in this business can get you killed. Besides," He jerked his head towards Kara, smiling proudly, "She'll be taking over the family business."

"Kara." She said formally, holding out a hand that Linus took reluctantly.

"Linus." He answered, looking her up and down. "Well Gerik, at least you instilled some manners in her. I hope that's not all."

"Of course not." Kara answered for him, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Well, now that you're all caught up." The bandaged man stepped in front of them all. With one crooked hand, he pointed up into the sky of the moon. There, Ibo Jin dominated the sky, blocking out stars and other planetoids. On the surface of the planet, one could see the faint outlines of cities and their lights.

"Ibo Jin will be waking up soon." He moved his arms and hands theatrically. Gerik rolled his eyes. Theatrics that was wasted on the bounty hunters around them. "I wonder what they'll wake up to."

"Is this guy crazy?" Kara whispered quietly to Gerik, but he shushed her. Crazy or not, he fronted the bill.

"I wish for Gerik to stay here with me. Kara and Linus, there is a military base down on Ibo Jin. Protect it."

"From what?" Linus asked, but stopped when the bandaged man turned slightly towards him. Gerik looked at Linus discreetly. The man was no coward, but had probably spent more time on this rock then Gerik. Was something about their employer so terrifying?

"Gerik, you will stay here and protect me."

"You expect me to send my daughter off on her own? Alone?" Gerik glanced sideways at his fellow bounty hunter. "With Linus?"

"You want her to become a bounty hunter?" The bandaged man shrugged. "If you don't like the deal, leave."

"I can handle this dad." Kara interrupted, glaring up at him. "You've taught me to come prepared."

He knew she was right, but still…

"Fine." Gerik scrawled his lips into a smile. "We agree. We'll each stand guard for one week. Any longer, and I want triple the original salary."

"That's all I ask." Their employer smiled, his eyes hidden by bandages. "That's all I ask."

* * *

The four padawans all sat at a circular table on the freighter. Master Keto and Sirrus were flying while Master Echu Shen-Jon was meditating in one of the back apartments. The trip would take at least two days, so the padawans were naturally bored. I mean, there were only so many times you could lose to Semreh at Dejerik, and watch Heri balance stuff on his nose.

Semreh groaned, still fiddling with his lightsaber.

"Why are you messing with that so much?" Aubrie asked curiously.

"Master Nostwa is...adament that I keep a careful eye on it."

"Yeah yeah." Heri screwed his face into a noble disciplinarian's frown. "This weapon is your life." He said in a passable imitation of a master's voice.

"Well, Master Nostwa and I take it seriously." He held the end of the hilt up to his eye, staring down the end. "You know that if you don't have the energy beam perfectly aligned with the crystal, a lightsaber will blow up with enough force to destroy a medium sized freighter?"

The padawans all looked around at the medium sized freighter they were flying in, then looked back at the lightsaber in Semreh's hands.

"That's a myth." Stam murmured dismissively.

"Yeah." Heri agreed, running a hand through his spiky brown hair. It reminded Semreh of grass. Very annoying orange grass. "I heard that too, but my lightsaber's never blown up."

"Because it has to be-very-precisely-aligned." Semreh hefted, and ignited it, letting its leaf green blade sizzle. "One in a billion chance, but it does happen."

"Yeah yeah." Heri leaned back, spitting a piece of thysal bark he'd been chewing into the air and catching it back in his mouth.

"Could you stop that!?" Stam growled. "Where'd you get that stuff anyways? Isn't it illegal?"

"It's legal." He exclaimed. "When properly processed."

"But gross." Aubrie shook her head, disgusted.

Heri flinched a little and grabbed the chewed bark from his teeth. "Didn't have any flavor anyways." He murmured, looking away sheepishly.

"We'll be at Ibo Jin in a few days." She announced, her voice laced with indignation. "And I'd like to get there with my sanity. Try not to ruin that." Aubrie spun on her heel, robes flapping around her ankles as she stormed into her room. The door shut with a shockingly angry hiss.

"Well," Stam leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table. "She's stuck in a ship with four other guys. Can't say I blame her."

"Yeah." Heri agreed distantly, still staring at her door. Semreh and Stam exchanged glances, and Stam leaned forward, snapping his fingers in his face.

"Hey!" Stam exclaimed. Heri's head jerked back. "You all right?"

"Yeah." Heri turned back to the table, looking at Semreh and Stam. "Just, uh, lookin' at something…"

Semreh and Stam exchanged another glance, this one a little worried. "Uh huh." Semreh tapped a finger on the table thoughtfully. It wasn't unusual for padawans, forced into high stress and close quarter situations, to develop a crush or something like that. "Have you worked with Aubrie before?"

"Yeah." He said, grinning, remember back to that time. "We've done a few missions together. Our masters like to work together." He drifted off, as if thinking back. Semreh groaned silently. As if the mission wasn't complicated enough.

* * *

The next day their freighter subtly pulled into the busy capital of Ibo Jin. While the masters left to meet with the Prime Minister, Master Serra Keto pulled the padawans aside, pulling out a small holo of the planet.

"Ibo Jin isn't very large so we should be able to get to the base in two days, even on foot." She clicked the small projector in her hands, and it seemed to zoom in on a point away from the city. It showed a small valley or canyon that was surrounded by forest and plain.

"The base is hidden in this canyon, along with almost every weapon Ibo Jin has managed to gather in its preparations. We'll infiltrate and set charges that will destroy the base." She deactivated the holo projector with a sudden click. "Without their fleet, the Ibo Jin will be unable to attack Ibo Hin, and our mission will be complete."

"Yes." Semreh murmured, not entirely convinced. "But I'm not sure us all just charging over there together is a great idea."

"What do you mean?"

Semreh drew a small map into the sand. "Here we are, and here's the base." He pointed at two dots he'd drawn in the dirt. "Now, if we both just go in a straight line, we could all be ambushed and slowed down. However," he explained as he drew two separate paths, each curving out and into the other dirt representation of the base, like a pincer, "if we split into two teams, we have twice the chance of success."

Master Keto looked at the rough plan for a few long moments. "It's a good plan…But I'll be on the team of two. I'll take Stam and curve to the west while you three curve to the east. We'll attack from both sides in two days."

Semreh decided, about half a day into their march, that he would have much rather gone with Master Keto. Heri was driving him nuts! Maybe it was his constant chatter, or his mind boggling ability to tell the most annoying, corny jokes, or maybe his constant flirting with Aubrie. Either way, Semreh had been tempted on more than one occasion to simply Force push the guy off a cliff.

They were making good time though, despite Heri's constant hyperactive attitude. He kept showing off by attempting the most idiotic and stupid tricks possible. Handstands, climbing trees, etc. He was certainly acrobatic enough, but it was hardly appropriate for the time.

* * *

When they finally made camp for a brief three hours of sleep, they were much closer to their target. In fact, they would probably get to the base by midday the next day, as long as they didn't run into any trouble.

As each of them laid out blankets to keep them shielded from the cold wind, Semreh stared up at the sky for a few moments.

"It's going to snow tomorrow." He announced confidently.

"What makes you say that?" Heri yawned, already under his blanket.

"Just a feeling."

"A feeling huh." He turned over, yawning again. "Well, as long as it can wait till tomorrow."

"Will it slow us down a ton Semreh?" Aubrie asked, yawning loudly. She too was nearly asleep.

"Depends on how much it snows I guess." He murmured, wrapping his robes around him and sitting, back leaning heavily against a tree. "Either way, we should be fine, as long as we keep warm."

* * *

Kara followed Linus down their shuttles ramp to the base. As soon as her father had agreed to the job, she'd grabbed her gear and followed the old veteran. From their dialogue, Kara could tell they'd met before, though she had no idea of the circumstances.

"_And knowing dad, that either means they were comrades, or tried to kill each other."_ She thought grimly. So, she'd taken precautions. Explosives, blaster carbines, pistols, etc. Add that to the special knife her dad had given her that she kept thrust into her boot, and she was ready.

Linus seemed all right though. He'd barely looked at her since they'd landed, simply dragging her out and taking her with him to set up camp on the edge of the base. The base commander had obviously heard of their employer. When they'd gotten there, he'd placed him and his men under Linus's command.

"I have one hundred soldiers under my command." The man offered, pointing at the lines of soldiers holding blaster rifles behind him.

"Good." Linus agreed, already knowing he would be taking command. "Five groups of ten of your men out in every direction. If they encounter anything, they are to report via comlink, then return to base."

"Yes sir." The commander saluted, already snapping orders to his men. They quickly formed into squads, rushing off into the woods and plains in formation.

"It will take time for them to find the Jedi." Linus murmured to Kara. "And when they do, we'll rush there and ambush them."

"Jedi?" Kara exclaimed. "Nobody said anything about Jedi?"

"Aww, Daddy's little girl won't fight Jedi?"

Kara refused to be baited.

"That's not the problem." She ground out through gritted teeth. "Obviously you and our employer are keeping things from us." Kara gritted her teeth, her hand drifting towards her belt, but the line of soldiers behind him shifted their rifles to a more ready position.

Linus winced, as if reminded of an unpleasant fact. "You have no idea."

* * *

When Semreh awoke a few hours later, he was surprised to feel a heavy weight on his shoulders, chest, head, and legs. Whipping his ragged blanket off him, he shook his head, and watched as snow showered around him. It had snowed.

There was about a foot of snow on the ground, which had buried him and his comrades. Semreh shrugged his shoulders, shaking off fluffy dustings of snow and ensuring that his pack was dry. Shaking it off, he stood, looking around at the heavy woods. There were still leaves on the trees, so the snow had piled on top, blocking his vision. But he definitely sensed…something.

"Squad Three has found the Jedi." The Commander reported, standing at attention before Linus. "Three young Jedi youths. I've marked their location on this datapad." The commander stiffly held the pad out to Kara.

Linus smiled, patting the blaster pistol at his hip.

"Good. Kara and I will deal with them. You recall all your squads back to the base and set up a perimeter."

"Yes sir." The commander said, returning to his men. "And you?"

"Kara and I will deal with the Jedi." He stood up, grabbing a blaster rifle from a nearby weapons rack and loading a power pack into it. "Agreed?"

"Agreed." The man said, before rushing off with his men.

"We'll deal with the Jedi?" Kara fidgeted, worried. "How?"

"The same way we non-Force users always do; Cheat."

* * *

Semreh woke the rest of his comrades with small nudges of the Force. It was his attempt to awaken them without alerting there watchers to their presence. Aubrie awoke in a typical Jedi fashion; instantly alert and silent. Heri awoke in his own fashion; groaning loudly and asking what was up. Semreh reached out, forming a powerful hand around his mouth to keep him quiet.

"Shhh!" He whispered sharply, pointing at the woods around them. Heri nodded and drew his lightsaber hilt. Aubrie was already up, staring into the woods. "Stay with her." Semreh ordered, rushing into the woods.

His eyes scoured the ground, searching for signs of the enemy. It wasn't long before he found it; about ten or eight sets of footprints buried into the snow. From the looks of them they were wearing heavy boots of some kind, probably military grade. When he returned to the camp, he reported what he'd found.

"What does it mean?" Heri asked, looking around at the woods in alarm.

"Well, whoever was watching us took off pretty fast." Semreh explained. "And we're pretty far out in the wilderness for them to be passing farmers. So they probably were patrols from the base."

"But," Heri scratched his head, confused, "Why not attack us?"

"Because, they either thought we were locals, or knew we were Jedi and thought we would sense an attack coming."

Aubrie mulled that over for a moment. "It is hard to sense things like that when we're asleep unless it's some type of malevolence directed at us. But if they weren't a threat, perhaps we wouldn't have sensed them."

"Well, either way, we need to get moving." He threw his pack over his shoulders, waving for his fellow padawans to follow.

"Wait! Who made you leader?" Heri crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "I say we follow their footprints."

"Why?" Semreh raised his datapad. "We can always just follow the map."

"Yeah." Aubrie agreed. "Why follow the footprints of the people trying to kill us?"

"Because, they know probably know the fastest way back to the base, regardless of what the map says. And," He raised a finger for emphasis. "If we follow their footprints, we're less likely to run into an ambush. It's the last thing they'd expect."

Semreh stared. He had not expected such insight, especially from Heri. The fact that he hadn't spotted that solution was irksome. Still…

"It's a good plan." He agreed, then nodded his head confidently. "Fine. We'll follow the trail."

* * *

"We'll use swoop bikes." Linus explained, straddling the powerful machine. He was dressed like a commando, with camouflaged clothes and a survival belt. "We can hit them fast, before they can recover, and use our speed to evade any deflected blaster bolts."

"Shoot and drive?" Kara asked, drawing one of her three blasters from her belt. "Sounds like a good plan. At least," She added, worried. "Against normal opponents."

"Jedi are no different from you and me." Linus snorted derisively. "If you shoot them, they burn. If you cut them, they bleed. If you kill them, they die."

"So I hear." Kara winced slightly at his harshness. "Still, my father always said to never underestimate any opponent, and Jedi have quite the reputation. "

"Undeserved." Linus growled derisively. "If I ran around cutting people in half with a glow stick, I'd be famous too. " He pulled the throttle on his swoop bike, turning him and the bike into one brown blur.

Kara sighed and jumped onto her own bike, revving it. "Still…" She murmured uncertainly as the bike shot away.

* * *

The trail was certainly easy terrain. Despite the snow that rose up to their chests and waists, they were moving rather quickly. Heri grinned a little to himself as he led the way along the trail. Whoever had come before them had left a deep furrow in the ground, making it far easier to move through the snow.

More importantly, he was marching next to Aubrie. He kept trying to steal glances at her as she followed him, but it somehow felt wrong. Especially with them being Jedi. Still, his master had always told him to trust his feelings, and Aubrie certainly stirred something in him. Attachment was forbidden, but he didn't feel attached. What he felt was a lot stronger.

He thought this over as they continued trekking through the snow. However, this caused him to pay less attention to the ground beneath his feet. Beneath the snow, he tripped. To Semreh and Aubrie, it must have looked as though he'd suddenly disappeared beneath the snow.

"Heri!" Aubrie called, her voice laced with worry. The two padawans hurried forward, grabbing their fallen friend by the shoulders and hauling him up. "You all right?"

"I'm fine." Heri murmured, his red face melting the snow over his face. He took a tentative step forward, testing the weight on his ankle, then winced and fell with a yelp and fell backwards. Aubrie rushed forward and knelt besides him.

"Your ankle is sprained." Aubrie said upon examining him. "Second degree I think. Just give me a moment." Working quickly, she pulled off Heri's boots and looked over his leg. Rubbing warmth into her hands, she placed them on his ankle, pumping Force energy into his leg. Though Heri's ankle was already swelling, it was soon visibly decreasing in size. Aubrie was weaving the Force, pulling his ligaments under his skin and reattaching stretched and torn ones.

"There." She smiled, wrapping his foot with a wrap she made from her a strip of her robes. "That better?"

"Yeah." Herisaid sheepishly pushing himself up, muscling through his pain. He'd already been humiliated in front of her. No point in complaining. "I'll be fine. Let's move long."

"What'd you trip on?" Semreh asked, looking down at him in annoyance.

"Dunno."

* * *

"Found them." Linus grinned, looking down at his wireless sensor link. A small blinking dot should the position of the Jedi. "The Jedi must have tripped one of our sensors."

"Great." Kara spat sarcastically. She pulled her clothes tight around her, revving her swoop's engine. "Let's go bag us some Jedi."

Stam had never moved this quickly in his life. He and Master Keto moved at an almost constant trot through the woods. Somehow, Stam felt that Serra was secretly in a race with the padawans to get there first. Then again, she was known as one of the most intense knights in the Order, often skirting the dark side in her combat.

Still, they were making great time. Crawling carefully up to the base and scanning it with binoculars. They were already at one end of the canyon, and were already within sight of the base. It was a walled compound, with turrets and barracks for troopers. More importantly…

"They're waiting for us." Master Keto announced, pointing out the troopers waiting around the base, each about three yards from each other. There was no obvious blindspot, and Stam had a sneaking suspicion that as soon as one of those men called in, the entire base's battalion would come down on them.

"Well," Serra Keto said, getting too her feet, "Looks like our enemies have denied us the usual infiltration. Soo…" She took off her pack, which held the explosives and detonators, and handed it to Stam. He stared at it for a moment as if confused.

"You place the detonators while I deal with the soldiers." She pulled her twin lightsabers from her belt, gripping them loosely in her hands. "Got it?"

Stroking his hair back, Stam now felt extremely confused. "But how are you going to…"

She turned slightly, looking down at him out of the corner of her eye. "Don't worry about the guards. They're mine." She leapt forward, landing lightly in the open area before the base. As the alarm sounded and the various soldiers of the base began forming outside, Stam couldn't help but wonder whether his other padawans were in is much bantha podo as he was.

* * *

Semreh felt the attack coming well before he felt it in the Force. Things just didn't add up. Though the tracks of the enemy soldiers led them over easy terrain and they made good time to the base, it also led them to an area where the snow piled up too their waists. The area, though open and easy to navigate, also had no cover, but was surrounded by woods. Technically, it was the fastest way to the base. However, it was also clearly the worst place to be ambushed.

When Semreh voiced his worries, Heri dismissed it, claiming that there was no way the enemy would expect them to go this way.

"Besides," He said, pointing at a tall rocky cliff that rose up before them in the distance, "There's cover over there, and the base is just beyond it. We're home free."

At that moment, a space twenty yards in front of them exploded in flame. Semreh looked up, seeing a pair of swoop bikes spinning around each other about fifty feet in the air. They turned in a constant circle, making a shot from them impossible. Not that any of the padawans actually had blasters, but none of the padawans could return the swoops fire.

Judging by the impact craters in the snow, those swoops had forward mounted cannons slung underneath their fronts. The two figures clinging to the top of the speeders were heavily wrapped and protected against the cold winter wind. In their glove covered hands, they carried blaster pistols and aimed with eyes protected behind goggles, and faces wrapped tight in scarves.

"Let's follow their trail. Oh, great idea!" Semreh roared, sarcasm layered hin his voice, igniting his saber and leaping forward.

* * *

Kara spun her swoop away, twisting it into another strafing run on the padawans. They were floundering in the snow, unable to move or maneuver away from their attack. The girl was dragging the boy with the spiky hair through the snow by his arm while he batted away blaster shots from Linus's pistol. Meanwhile, the other padawan was yelling something to the other two before snapping his lightsaber off and diving beneath the snow.

"_Clever_." She thought to herself and turning her swoop down towards the wayward padawans. "_The snow is at least five feet high and frozen, so we won't be able to see him under there. Plus,"_ She looked at the blaster pistol in her hand, "_If the top is as frozen as I assume, this won't burn through it as quickly."_

She rode in low, blazing away at the ground with her blaster pistol.

* * *

Semreh desperately burrowed his way through the snow, rubbing his hands raw against the icy walls. The snow was hard and icy, but Semreh's desperation and the careful addition of the heat from his lightsaber on low power helped him move along. With several feet of frozen snow above his prone body, blaster pistols would have trouble hitting him, even if they could see him.

Of course, a blaster cannon would cut through the ice like a knife through Jell-O. All the bounty hunters needed to do was pinpoint his position, and he was dead. Which meant he couldn't just sit there. Reaching out with the Force, he felt the swoops circling above him, firing down on the other two. As long as Heri and Aubrie kept mobile, the swoop's forward facing cannons wouldn't be able to track them. However, their blaster pistols could still be brought to bear.

Heri had his saber ignited in one hand while his other was being pulled by Aubrie. He batted blaster bolts back at their assailants, but the nimble swoops evaded them.

"Come on!" Aubrie yelled, still pulling him towards the hill. "We need to take cov-" A bolt of energy struck her, grazing her shoulder.

Heri turned, horrified, as Aubrie spun, stumbled, and fell. Spinning, the Force surged, and he deflected a flurry of blasterbolts, sending them hurling back towards the swoops. They all missed, sizzling through the air. The other swoop was strafing the ground, trying to find Semreh. Heri paused for a moment, torn. At that moment, he felt a pair of boots strike the small of his back, throwing him forward.

"Pay attention kid!" A mocking voice yelled.

Heri rolled instinctively, barely avoiding a burst of energy. He felt a rush of hot air as the blasterbolt grazed his scalp. Standing above him was one of the bounty hunters. A male from the sounds of his voice.

"I'll take her." He said, throwing Aubrie over his shoulder.

"NO!" Heri yelled, jumping to his feet. A second later, he stopped cold, a fist twisting into his stomach. The bounty hunter looked down at him through his blank goggles, grinning.

"Jedi children. Just as useless as always." The last thing Heri saw was the bounty hunter raising a boot and then everything went back.

* * *

Master Dia followed Master Nostwa down the ramp of their ship. It had been easy enough to pinpoint where the Senator was. The moon of Ibo Kin was the only place the kidnappers could have fled to without attracting attention. And though it had breathable air, the only place that supported a base was on the far side of the moon in the northern hemisphere. That was the only place the kidnappers could send out transmissions.

As the kidnappers had fled on a registered shuttle, it wasn't hard to find the transponder and track it to the abandoned military base. Once there, Nostwa and Dia would find the Senator and capture his kidnappers.

Of course, it was never that simple. The military base, though small (only comprising of a landing zone and one small building) was already occupied. There, alone on the platform, was the Senator. Bound and gagged. As Master Nostwa strode down the ramp, she immediately knew it was a trap.

"Stay here." She warned Master Dia, surveying the area. "I'll grab the Senator."

Dia nodded, knowing that Master Nostwa would act as the decoy to draw out their attackers. Nostwa was younger than Dia and more likely to survive whatever ambush their attackers had planned. Still, Dia nervously felt for her lightsaber, clenching it tightly in her claws.

Nostwa walked confidently, her lightsaber loosely held in her hands. It was double bladed, something of a new design that was hardly popular, but effective. At least, in her opinion. As Dia scanned the flat area from her position on top of their ships ramp. It was obvious that there was some ambush in waiting. She didn't need the Force to know that. However, no matter how much she tried, she couldn't sense anyone.

Suddenly, Dia heard a snap and a hiss. The distinct sound of a lightsaber igniting, but not hers. This was followed by the distinct sound of fur, skin and bone sizzling as plasma chewed through it. Dia looked down at her chest, gaping openmouthed as the blue blade pulled out through her side, leaving half her torso to hang like a door off a bloody hinge.

* * *

Nostwa turned, instinctively igniting her saber as soon as she felt Master Dia's Force signature flicker and fade away. Standing over her dead body was a heavily bandaged man holding a blue lightsaber in his right hand while his left stretched out and Force grabbed Master Dia's green saber from the ground.

"Hello Jedi."

Nostwa leaped backwards, using the Force to propel him twenty meters passed the captive Senator. Using the Force, she reached out, pulling the Senator towards her, turning to shield him with her back as the landing pad exploded in flame.

Nostwa took a brief moment, checking that she and the Senator were unharmed. The man was fine, save a small blood stain across his cheek. Nostwa used the Force to float the Senator away, where he'd be relatively safe from the coming battle. After, she turned to look across the landing pad. The bandaged man was approaching, his now twin sabers ignited and held in a defensive stance in an x across his chest.

"Well Jedi." The man grinned, his exposed mouth peeking from beneath his bandages. "I assume you've already seen this for the trap it is."

"Of course." Nostwa forced a grin back, spinning her saber around her body in an intricate pattern. "Just waiting for you to show yourself, little coward."

Through the Force, Nostwa sensed the man's anger, but he did not move. Nostwa found this strange. Though the man was no Sith, he stank of the dark side and was ruled by anger. More importantly, the being was moderately strong in the Force. Not the strongest she'd ever seen, but enough for him to shield his presence in the Force. Why hadn't he attacked?

The answer hit her like a blaster bolt to the back. Quite literally. Nostwa heard the blast moments before it hit her. Luckily, she had moved ever so slightly to the left, letting the blast hit her, but miss some of her most vital organs. For a moment, Nostwa felt as though she was floating through the air. Then the pain hit her, jerking her awake and full of adrenaline.

As her body spun from the force of the blast, she twisted, turning her fall into a Force propelled leap to her left. She flipped, using her hands to steer away from her assailants. Holding her saber balanced in her hands, she turned to see who had shot her.

The man was massive. Easily a full foot taller than her and twice as broad, with bulging arms and a heavy rifle in his arms. Said rifle was trained on her, even as Nostwa readied her saber to deflect the barrage of blaster fire she knew was coming. As the air between her and the man sizzled with fire, Nostwa was already flipping through the air, somersaulting back towards the bandaged man.

The man's mouth opened in shock for a moment before he raised Master Dia's lightsaber to catch Nostwa's own green blade. The two snapped and sparked, a pair of wand flames dancing against each other. Nostwa brought the opposite side of her blade up, trying to cleave up and through the man's torso. He raised his other saber, blocking with a stiff and unwieldy parry.

Nostwa let her blade fall a little lower, grazing and singing bandages from the man's wrist. Then she spun away with a quick flourish, catching a flurry of blaster bolts from the bounty hunter, who was slowly sidestepping and constantly adjusting his position.

The mercenary was a professional. Even through the Force, he felt cold and impersonal. The bandaged man was another matter. He burned in the force, like a dark fire of rage. He was not Sith though. The rage was wild and unfocused, as seen in his parries and strikes backed by pure power with no finesse. Nostwa wasn't even worried about that man. He was the mastermind, but no warrior.

Still, the mercenary evened the odds. While Nostwa was forced to watch him, the bandaged man was able to strike and harry her defenses. So…

"_I need to cut him down first." _Shethought through gritted teeth. Spinning backwards from a powerful saber lock, she twisted sideways through the air. She leapt twice, spinning and whirling the long handle of her lightsaber about her body in intricate patterns that sent another flurry of blaster fire sizzling back at the man.

He leapt to the side, rolling on his shoulder, coming up firing. But Nostwa was already on him, her saber carving up towards his exposed face. The merc dropped his rifle instinctively, backpedaling furiously. Nostwa seized the advantage, aiming a double handed thrust at his chest. However, before the blade connected, it met unexpected resistance.

Nostwa looked down her blade, and was surprised to see her blade being blocked by the silver blades of a pair of brass knuckle knives. The merc smiled, and pushed up with his blades, forcing Nostwa's blade up with one hand and leaving her body exposed to a gutting slash from the other. Only a desperate step backwards saved her from death.

"My trench knives," The merc gloated, dropping his arms into a careful boxers stance, "Are coated with cortosis. Makes then impervious to your lightsaber." He grinned again, letting the blades hang loosely in his fingers.

Nostwa grimaced, no longer so certain about her victory. Taking a step backwards, she shifted the grip of her lightsaber and charged.

* * *

Semreh hurried to Heri, angling his saber to a position where he could easily defend against blaster barrages, in case the bounty hunters returned. Heri was looking around at the woods, looking flustered and furious. He had his saber ignited at his side, but it was shaking slightly in his hands.

Semreh carved a path through the snow, quickly arriving at Heri's side. "Heri!" He exclaimed, shaking the padawan on the shoulder. "Where's Aubrie?"

"Gone." He said, his voice cracking slightly. "We've got to go after her."

Semreh watched speechlessly as Heri ran, knees high, towards his and Aubrie's fallen pack. He picked them up, observing them. They were smoking heavily, burned through by blaster bolts.

"Uhh!" He groaned, throwing the packs away angrily. "Here, we'll just have to share yours." He held out his hand expectantly, but Semreh didn't move.

* * *

Heri could barely breathe. Aubrie had been captured. And it was his fault. Panic continued to rise in his chest, squeezing his heart. They'd taken Aubrey. Taken her right under his nose. Who knew what the two bounty hunters would do to her.

"Come on!" Heri exclaimed, holding out his hand for Semreh's pack. "Hand it over!"

"No."

Heri flinched, as though Semreh had struck him. "What did you say?"

"You're forgetting our mission." Semreh warned, his voice lowering. "Those swoops went in the opposite direction of the base. They're trying to distract us."

"But Aubrie-"

"Will be fine." Semreh finished sharply. "We can't allow her capture to compromise the mission."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW!?" Heri exploded, grabbing Semreh by the collar of his tunic. The fact that Semreh, a fellow padawan, someone they'd all grown up with, would abandon Aubrie as though she were a mere too…it infuriated him. "We can't just abandon her."

"Sacrifice is necessary for Jedi." Semreh continued, his voice going cold. Through the Force, Henri could feel his emotions. There were none. It was as if Semreh had shut himself off. "It's why we train ourselves to let go. It's why we make such effective peacekeepers. We are able to make the necessary sacrifices for it."

Heri angrily pushed Semreh away, his face a mask of surprise, anger, and betrayal. Something else was there too. Something Semreh had never expected. Contempt.

"Do you really believe that?" Heri's voice was incredulous, as though he still couldn't quite believe his ears. "Is that really all the Jedi are good for?"

"Remember Heri; there is no emotion, there is peace."

"Stop."

"There is no Ignorance, there is knowledge."

"I'm warning you-"

"There is no passion." Semreh shot back. "There is serenity."

Even Semreh could hear creaking as Heri's fist balled and tightened from anger.

"There is no death, there is-"

A sharp crack reverberated through the air. Semreh's head shot back and he felt his legs fall out from underneath him and surprise coursed through his body. Heri had struck him, landing a punch right under his chin. Semreh worked his mouth, checking to make sure nothing was broken, then looked up at Heri with pity.

"A Jedi needs to remove emotion-"

"You compassionless, scummy…Gravel maggot!" Heri, spat out, breathing heavily. He clipped his lightsaber to his belt and turned to leave, walking in the direction of the swoops. Away from the base. Away from their mission. Before he left though, he turned and looked at Semreh, who had risen slowly to his feet.

"For all we know, she is already dead. To go after her now would put the lives of billions at stake for the sake of one." Semreh stared up at Heri, his eyes narrowing. "My master and I have completed each and every one of our missions because we do what must be done. She's always quoteing her old master, saying 'We do what we do because we must, not because we want to', and it's never let us down."

"Someday," Heri growled, "You will regret leaving Aubrie to die. You dishonor everything the Jedi stand for."

Semreh started, feeling the shock and bluntness of the comment. He looked down at the lightsaber at his belt, remembering his oath. For a moment, he considered going after Heri. He considered forsaking his mission and rescuing his friends. There was even a chance that Master Keto and Stan would be enough for the mission. Then logic took over. Cruel, brutal logic. Making his decision, Semreh began the slow trek to the base. Alone.

**_How lazy am I that I've got several chapters written, but am too lazy to post..._**


	71. Chapter 71 Old Wounds

**_Finally. It'll be great to get back to the main story again, now that I know what to write :)_**

Kara tied Aubrie well, binding her wrists and ankles with thick knots of rope. The girl squirmed, trying to spit through the gag in her mouth. Of course, all of this was feeble and half-hearted. Linus had been careful to block both her physical and Force abilities with a sedative as soon as they'd picked her up.

While Kara had reservations about holding a girl who only looked a little younger than her hostage, they had little choice. As her father would say, it was just business. Good business. Assuming that those other two Jedi had a comlink, any other Jedi teams in the area would refuse to move for fear of the execution of their hostage. So, the base would be safe. Assuming then soldiers from the base managed to defend it.

Of course, the bounty hunters were not about to let their guard down now. Linus stood outside, waist deep in snow as he scanned the area with macrobinoculars. If the Jedi attempted some rescue attempt, Linus had ensured there were a few surprises for them within the narrow crevice of a cave.

* * *

Heri stared down at lonesome figure below him. It was heavily wrapped in thick clothes, and his eyes and face were hidden within a combination of rags and snow smeared goggles. Heri silently drew his lightsaber, leaving it unignited in his hand. He could throw himself through the air; flying towards the man's turned back, the emitter aimed at his back. Yes. He would wound or disable this man. For Aubrie.

He leapt. The Force surged beneath his feet, carrying his body through the air, whistling towards the figure. The air was silent though. His saber snapped alive with sky blue flame. He pushed it forward, sending it burning through skin and bone as easily as water.

But there was not sizzle, no smell of ozone singeing flesh. Just the shimmering sound as his body passed through a hologram.

"Kark this!" He spat before falling into the snow. The Force flashed a warning and Heri threw himself to the side as blaster fire lanced from the trees. But trapped in waist deep snow, his movement was restricted to a walk. He was forced to stand, his blade angled to protect his exposed upper body as beams of energy lanced from the trees.

The bounty hunter, whoever he was, had shed his winter clothes and now wore a thinner set of clothes and a long jacket. He was firing from the trees, jumping with astounding agility from one to the other, making it impossible for Heri to deflect his sniper bolts back.

"_He tricked me."_ Heri thought angrily. _"And I walked right into it!"_

The hologram had been a trap, a lure to pull idiot padawans into his trap. Idiot padawans like him.

"I could kill you at any moment. Look below you."

Heri looked up at the man, who had lowered his rifle for a moment to talk. He looked down at his feet and a small gasp slipped from his mouth. There, at his feet, was a beeping device. A beeping device that looked suspiciously like a bomb.

"Give me a reason." The man said, raising a remote in his other hand. "And I'll kill you." Then he tilted his head with a smile. "Actually, you're as good as dead anyways, and killing a Jedi can give so much prestige these days." His thumb fell slowly, a guillotine falling on Heri's lifeline. A guillotine that was suddenly severed by a bright green wand of energy held by a grim looking padawan.

Linus leapt backwards, but slipped as his feet hit the icy branch he tried to land on and fell twenty feet to the ground below. The snow absorbed most of the impact, but he wasn't getting up for a while. Semreh caught the remote before it hit the ground, careful to not touch the button.

"You good?"

"Yeah." Heri dusted snow off his tunic and gathered up his saber. "I can't believed you showed."

"Logically, my odds of getting to the base are much less alone than with you." He tilted his head, and jerked it towards the cave. "Besides, Aubrie needs our help."

* * *

Kara heard commotion outside, but it didn't really worry her. Linus had said he would take care of the Jedi, and the man was as much a killer as her dad. Still, that didn't keep her from drawing her blaster when she heard footsteps echoing off the cave walls. She whirled, and was surprised to see two young boys dressed in Jedi robes and carrying lightsabers that looked like toys in their hands. Lethal toys.

She sighed. "Where's Linus?" She asked unnecessarily.

"Detained." The shorter one said. The boy was built like a tank, short and powerful. His companion was taller and lankier, less sure of himself, but his face was a fierce mask of determination.

"Give us Aubrie," The taller Jedi cried, circling to her left along the cave wall, "And we'll let you go free."

The other Jedi glanced at him sharply, but then nodded. "Just run away little girl." He growled, punctuating the threat in his voice with a small flourish with his forest green sabre. "We don't have time for you."

Kara bristled, tightening her grip on the pistol as the Jedi moved to flank her on either side. She wasn't just some little girl, and these two boys looked even younger than her.

"How about I plug your friend through the forehead?" She swung the blaster around, leveling towards the bound and gagged Jedi. Her eyes widened as she saw the once unconscious girl struggling unsteadily to her feet. Her finger squeezed on the trigger, but the shorter Jedi had lunged, out of nowhere, and kicked the blaster away.

He turned his kick into a backwards flip, landing a just out of Kara's reach. His saber flashed, aimed towards her still extended arm. Training took over, and Kara leapt back, drawing her father's knife from her boot and landing in a fighting stance.

The Jedi were on her a second later, their long weapons carving through air and rock as they tried to cut her down. But Kara was to quick and acrobatic, maneuvering the pair of them so they constantly blocked or got in each other's way.

Meanwhile, Aubrie had stumbled and fallen again. Her head was still fuzzy, and her lightsaber was nowhere to be found. Desperately, she log rolled towards the bounty hunters fallen blaster pistol. The cave was relatively well lit, so she found it quickly. However, when she aimed it towards the fight, she could barely make out who was who.

"_Whatever drugs they gave me have not been wearing off."_ She thought drunkenly. Instead, she aimed the blaster up towards the ceiling, ensuring that the cord binding her wrists was in the way. The bolt from the blaster shot up, burning through the ropes, but also shearing a sizable amount of skin off her hands. She screamed.

* * *

Heri turned, distracted by the sound of Aubrie shrieking in pain. It was all the moment the bounty hunter needed. She spun, catching him in the side with her ankle, sending him spinning away. The spin brought her back round, swinging her knife at double the speed. It slashed through the shorter Jedi's beam of energy…And the Jedi watched in astonishment as the blade passed through, leaving the Jedi holding the emitter.

"It's cortosis." She grinned at him, slugging the surprised Jedi with an undercut to the chin. "Pure cortosis will short circuit your lightsaber, unlike coated cortosis weapons that just block it." She smiled at him, switching the blade around to stab down at him. "Face it, you've lost."

* * *

Nostwa flipped away as the two men flanked her. Her back came inches from the bandaged man's blood red blade and her feet grazed the mercenaries knuckle blade. She landed, sliding a few feet before settling her dual blade back into a defensive stance across her body.

Her two enemies advanced. She'd have beaten them by now, but they outnumbered her and every time she isolated one, the other would attack and distract her. Add to that her wounded back, and the odds were stacked against her. What she needed was a single move that could beat them both.

"_And I've got just the thing."_ She thought, raising her double sided saber as the bandaged man charged. He raised his saber, planning to send the blood red blade carving down through her hilt and into her body.

Now, after the death of Master Qui-Gon at the hands of the Sith on Naboo, Jedi had begun researching the Sith, trying to understand how a powerful Jedi like him had been killed. It was decided that, in addition to the fact that the small area they fought in restricted his use of the highly acrobatic Ataru, the Sith's use of a double sided lightsaber had set Qui-Gon off balance.

See, the double sided lightsaber is not more effective than a single bladed one. In fact, it is inherently inferior. The use of two blades limits the angles of attack to horizontal and diagonal strikes. Heavy thrusts and stabs would only impale the user as well.

However, its advantages are its ability to defend two areas at once with the same double handed strength and, more importantly, how unusual it was. Seeing Jedi wielding two sabers was certainly not unheard of, and single sabers would have been common. All padawans would have training against these types of weapons. Yet, add an extra blade to the bottom, and the enemy will be offset, their years of practice wasted. In the end, Qui-Gon was defeated by an unfamiliar weapon, one he had trouble predicting.

The Jedi Order, through meticulous study, had relearned how to build these weapons. Nostwa's former master had been an expert in the ancient history and arts of the Jedi Order, so Nostwa had been appointed to lead the creation and use of these weapons. However, most Jedi still preferred the single sabers, or merely carried two.

But Nostwa understood the benefits of surprise and setting an opponent off balance. So, when she'd created hers, she had made some slight modifications.

"_This is why I taught Semreh to know his weapon inside and out."_ She thought with a grin. Before the red bladed weapon could fall through the elongated hilt of her lightsaber, Nostwa twisted her weapon, splitting it in half. The once double bladed lightsaber had turned into two separate spears of energy.

At the same time, her enemy's red blade flickered and died as it passed through the thin thread of wire that connected the two. His eyes looked dumbfounded as her weapons passed through his stomach like scissors. She caught Master Dia's saber before it hit the ground.

"Wha-" The man gasped, looking down at the pair of burning scars in his stomach. "How?"

"Pure Cortosis, spun into a fine wire." Nostwa presented her sabers before her, flipping a switch that tightened the wire, snapping the two blades back into one long hilt. "The wire connects the two, and keeps me from losing one blade when I split them."

The man gaped, not fully comprehending. Then, he fell back, dead.

Nostwa had just enough time to feel some minor pride, when the sound of engines taking off behind her caused her to whirl. The bounty hunter, having distracted her, had stolen her ship and was now heading planet-side at a respectable fraction of the speed of light. Nostwa groaned as she signaled her comlink. It was going to be very hard to explain this one to the Council.

* * *

Semreh seemed to fly out of nowhere, a Force propelled leap throwing him through the air like a cannon ball. He struck the female bounty hunter, sending her spinning to the side. Semreh tried to twist her wrist into an arm lock, but the girl twisted away. She drew another pistol from her belt, snapping of a pair of quick blasts.

Semreh leapt aside, throwing his body into a roll and coming up with a swift jabbing strike. The Force surged, and a powerful blast picked the girl up, hurling her from the cave. Semreh rose, calling his deactivated lightsaber hilt before turning to Heri and Aubrie.

Heri had his arm around Aubrie, who looked weak, but coherent. Her hands were burned and Heri was looking at her with concern. Loving concern.

"Can you heal that?" He asked as they started limping towards Semreh.

"I think so," She replied shakily, "But these drugs are making it hard for me to think, let alone use the Force."

"We'll have to get her medical help." Semreh confirmed, looking at her wounds. "We'll meet up with Master Keto and-"

Semreh never finished his suggestion. A column of fire shot from the sky, sending stones and rocks falling towards the. Semreh reacted instinctively, raising his hands to stutter the falling rocks. Heri turned, hurling Aubrie to his feet so she was under the umbrella of Force energy he was projecting. Heri then rolled, throwing himself under, but stopped with a sudden jerk.

Out of the corner of Semreh's eye, he could see the big male bounty hunter at the entrance to the cave, a smirk curving his lips up. Then the stones caved in, and everything went black.

* * *

When he came to, Semreh's immediate thought was that he was dead. It was pitch black and, though he was vaguely aware of his lightsaber hanging from his belt, he merely wanted to lay there with his eyes shut. He felt tired; older than he was.

Then, a groan woke him up.

"Semreh!" Aubrie's voice rang through the dark. "Are you there?"

"Yeah." Semreh pushed himself up into a sitting position. When he tried to stand, he smacked his head on whatever stone roof had caved in on them.

"Oww!" He yelped, falling back down.

"Not a lot of room in here." Aubrie observed weakly. "Get your lightsaber."

"Yeah." Semreh drew his weapon, igniting it. The green flame rose up, illuminating the small cave. Semreh's Force shield had saved them, but caused the stones around them to fall so they were trapped, buried beneath the stone. Semreh considered trying to dig their way out, but any shift in the rock structure could bury them alive. It was a miracle they were alive.

He could see Aubrie, leaned heavily against the piled stone, looking tired. Her hands were healing, but it looked as though it had taken a lot out of her.

"Where's Heri?"

"Here." A voice rasped out from the darkness.

Semreh's heart leapt into his throat. Slowly, he turned his saber about, shedding the light slowly towards his right. Towards Heri. And there he was.

A charred circle of flesh and fried organs was all that was left of his stomach. The laser blast had struck him in the stomach, probably throwing him out of the protection Semreh had thrown up. At least, it had thrown pert of him out. His left arm was trapped beneath the rocks, crushed into a misshapen mass of bone and skin.

"You guys all right?" He murmured. "How do I look?"

"HERI!" Aubrie screamed. Any tiredness left her as she sprung to her knees, crawling towards him. Her hand was shaking as she knelt over him, tenderly feeling his stomach wound.

For a long moment, Semreh felt his mind seem to lift from his body.

"Can you heal it?" Semreh asked shakily, the urgency of the situation overriding his fear, but leaving his consciousness in a fog.

"I-I don't know." She just looked at it, almost hyperventilating. "I've never done anything this big before…"

Heri's body heaved with violent coughing. A trickle of blood slipped from his lips.

"Do it." Semreh ordered, urgency rising. "Now!"

"Don't bother." Heri's pained voice was fading, becoming a harsh whisper. "My arm's gone, and I can barely feel my legs."

Aubrie ignored him, ripping a strip of her robe off to tie a tourniquet for his arm. Once the wrap was in place, she placed her hands deep into Heri's wound, burying her arms in till the wrists disappeared, and began pumping Force energy into him.

There were creaking a wet organic noises as Heri's organs and skin began healing at an accelerated rate. For a moment, Semreh had hope that it would work. If they could close the wound, perhaps they could drag Heri out of there.

Slowly but surely, some color returned to Heri's face. He breathed a little deeper. But as his health returned, it looked like Aubrie's was about to break. This much healing in such a short amount of time…It was wearing on her.

Then, something happened. Heri started twitching, his body convulsing uncontrollably. He kept crying "Stop, stop!" and finally, Aubrie pulled her hands out.

Heri was fading. He could feel it. So many things inside him were broken that Aubrie's amateur forced healing would only cause him pain. Semreh's mind immediately began analyzing the situation, searching for a way out for all of them.

_He needs a medic, and a proper healer._ Semreh considered taking the risk of using the Force to burrow their way out, but the resulting shift in stone could cause the entire cave to fall in.

"I'm sorry!" Aubrie raised her shaking hands, unable to think. She was about to lose it, Semreh could feel it. Watching their friend die in front of them, feeling him slipping away…

"We'll need to tunnel out." Semreh declared finally, turning in a crouch towards where he guessed the opening to the cave was. He raised both his hands, but stopped as a rasping laugh echoed behind him.

"And what, collapse the cave on top of us?" Heri shook his head. "Besides, we both know you don't have enough energy to shift all that stone and still be able to fight your way through those bounty hunters.

Semreh mentally kicked himself. He'd forgotten about the ambush that would no doubt be waiting for them outside.

"However," Heri murmured slowly, "I bet I could help." He shifted slightly, then groaned in pain. Aubrie took a step forward, then stopped herself with a pained look.

"I can't focus enough to use the Force right now, but if you can direct energy as I release it-"

"No." Semreh shook his head firmly. "That'll kill you. The only reason you're probably alive now is because of your Force energy."

Heri laughed gutturally again. "I'm already dead. It's just taking a little longer than the bounty hunters planned." He coughed again and blood spurted from his lips. "Aubrie, you'll have to keep me alive a little longer while Semreh directs the energy."

"Right." She rolled up her sleeves, wiping her tears away with her wrist.

Semreh opened his mouth to argue, but Heri suddenly grabbed his collar with his good hand, pulling Semreh in close enough to hear.

"You can't always save everyone Semreh. Just make the sacrifice and get you and Aubrie out of here." He paused with a pained look for a moment as Aubrie's hands again dove into his stomach. "Just save her. Please."

Semreh pushed away, nodding. "I will. I promise."

Heri nodded one last time, then let himself fall back. Semreh could feel him gathering up Force energy, offering it up to Semreh. He moved to the opposite side of the small air bubble, planting his feet and bracing himself before reaching out with the Force.

* * *

Aubrie could feel the faint beating of Heri's heart and organs against her hands as she pumped energy into his cells, energizing and multiplying them. But the Aubrie's control over the healing was slipping from exhaustion. The cells were multiplying sloppily, leaving cancerous cells behind and creating a general mess of Heri's insides.

"HOLD ON!" Aubrie yelled as Heri thrashed violently again. "Please just hold on!"

Heri didn't say anything. He couldn't. His frayed lungs were already barely able to keep his body moving as it was. He didn't have air to waste on last words. With his last strength, he was using the Force to hold the ceiling of stone up above their heads.

_No way I can keep this up…_

Heri could feel his strength slipping away, his concentration failing. Above him, the stones held their position, but were shifting more and more. To his right, Heri heard an exclamation of success as Semreh breached the rubble.

"We're through!" Semreh called, turning to Aubrie and Heri. "I'll head out and distract the bounty hunters. Follow later with Heri Aubrie!"

"Got it." Aubrie's teeth were gritted with effort. "But I'm not sure I can even move him at this point-"

"Just do it." Semreh's voice rang from the tunnel. He'd already gone.

Aubrie took a deep breath and returned to her work. Heri's insides were essentially shredded, slowly burning meat at this point. He had a minute, maybe less, but Aubrie couldn't make herself tell Semreh that. She couldn't make herself admit it.

"Aubrie…" Heri murmured, shaking his head, eyes drooping sleepily. "I don't want to die…There's so much I've still got to do."

"It's all right. It's gonna be all right." Aubrie's voice was rising in panic now, her wrists once again deep into his gaping wound. "Just keep breathing Heri. Keep-"

She stopped as another round of hacking splattered blood across the front of her robes.

* * *

"You look good." Linus observed as Kara kicked her way out of the rubble from the explosion. He only smiled as she scowled at him. "Oh come on. At least the Jedi are dead."

"But you almost killed me nerf-herder!"

"Necessary risk honey. Your life is easily equal to three Jedi padawans."

Kara opened her mouth, a sharp retort already on her tongue when a small noise behind her caught her attention, followed by the exponentially more distressing noise of a lightsaber igniting. The shorter padawan seemed to have somehow wormed his way from the rubble, and stood with an exhausted, tired look in his eyes, his saber vibrating in his hand.

"You were saying?" Kara mocked, but started as the padawan limped from the rubble.

"_His endurance's gotta be enormous, to have dug himself out and still be able to move."_

"An easily correct problem." Linus raised his blaster pistol with a casual smile and fired a trio of quick shots, placing them so the padawan would have trouble deflecting every one. Kara waited for the sizzling of flesh, for the padawans gasping cries of pain. They never came.

Instead, the bolts seemed to dissipate inches from the padawan, winking out of existence like stars. Linus gave a strangled cry of surprise as the padawan raised a closed fist. This was soon followed by an awful squelching noise. Kara tore her gaze away from the padawan's glazed over eyes to see the back of Linus compressing slowly, as if his back were a slinky being crushed. It sounded like a thousand men all cracking their knuckles in rapid succession.

The padawan didn't smile or make any expression Kara could recognize. He just stared ahead, not really looking at anything. Linus continued to compress until his mangled remains, packed neatly into a space no bigger than a starfighter's cargo hold. Kara backed away slowly, her mind racing. Her father had taught her plenty about Jedi. Their tactics, their 'powers', even their creed that limited them so much. But she'd never heard of anything like this.

She squinted, trying to get a better look at the padawan's eyes. Kara suddenly realized that, judging from pupil dilation, the padawan was unconscious.

"Now hold on." Kara lowered her blaster putting her unarmed hand out in a gesture of peace. "We can make a de-"

But the padawan, no matter how human and alive he looked, was no longer there. His eyes were entirely glazed over, jittering shakily beneath half-closed eyelids. His lightsaber was discarded, but he was far from unarmed now. Even Kara, without a drop of Force sensitive blood in her veins, could feel the energy radiating off of him. It rolled like waves across her body. The padawan closed his eyes, and Kara felt her skin warm, than burn, than…nothing. She felt nothing as her nerve endings burned away with the rest of her skin.

* * *

Aubrie was doing everything she could to keep her old friend alive. She'd gingerly dragged his body from the suffocating darkness of the cave, laying him out in the snow. The sun had bloomed from the clouds, drenching the entire area in blinding light. Once Aubrie had secured Heri, she stumbled over to Semreh, checking his pulse and helping the half awake padawan to his feet.

"Whahappend?" He murmured thickly.

"The bounty hunters are dead." Aubrie jerked her head towards the remains of their assailants. She didn't ask how Semreh had managed to kill them…or whether it had been necessary. Semreh collapsed to his knees besides Aubrie, his hand shakily reaching to pat Heri on the chest.

Despite Aubrie's efforts, Heri's body continued to deteriorate, his shattered lungs slowly suffocating him. Aubrie was weeping openly now, crying silent sobs even as she tried to save Heri's life, her hands pumping the Force into his wounds, regenerating cells and weaving his skin back together.

"How-is-he?" Semreh asked breathlessly after a few minutes of silently watching them.

"I-I can't-" She fell silent just as quickly as she spoke up, a new round of convulsions wracking Heri. This time though, fountain of blood bubbled up from both his mouth and stomach. What remained of his internal organs were rupturing.

"Heri hold on!" Aubrie screamed. "Heri!"

Semreh grabbed her shoulder, holding her. She was shaking like a leaf, crying as her voice rose to near hysteria.

"Heri! No, please don't die. Don't die. Don't die. Don't die, don't die, don't die, DON"T DIE!!!"

"That's enough!" Semreh snapped, pulling her back by her shoulder. Her hands slid from Heri's wounds with sickening sounds of crisping flesh. "He's dead."

* * *

Nostwa had been picked up by a passing freighter ship, one definitely not affiliated with the Republic. When the crew of the freighter had threatened to leave her there unless she paid up, Nostwa had thought about what Master Yoda would have done…and then totally ignored it. The crewmen were probably still there as the freighter began its approach to Ibo-Jin, Nostwa at the helm, with the Senator in tow. What she saw made her gasp.

Flames were burning across much of the planet, particularly in clumps where cities were clustered together. The closer she got, the more detail she saw. Flames and smoke billowing from high towers, fields ablaze, small dagger-like starfighters razing the ground with their cannons. Baktoid Workshops starfighters.

It all looked so obvious now. The Chancellor, the Republic, and its Jedi, had been played. Made fools of. The Ibo-Hin's plea for help had been a ploy, a feint to force the Republic to take sides. They'd used the Jedi to destroy the Ibo-Hin fleet and weapons, leaving the planet defenseless against Ibo-Jin's new fleet of droid starfighters.

"_How could we have not seen this coming?"_ Nostwa thought angrily, ducking her freighter low, beneath the wave of starfighters. "_How_!?"

She knew the Jedi's ability to foresee the future was diminished, but she'd never believed they'd fail to foresee the kind of carnage before her now. And for once in her life, Nostwa felt true and utter fear for the future.

* * *

Ibo-Hin's destruction had crippled their ability to fight, and a few weeks later, Ibo-Jin forced them to sign a treaty surrendering the entire region of space to Ibo-Jin. A few months later, Ibo-Jin would join the Confederacy and cut the Republics supplies across their trade routes.

Heri and his Master were cremated once the Jedi returned to the Temple. Aubrie was particurally affected by his death, and soon after devoted herself to becoming a better healer, even agreeing to train with the notoriously strict Master Mace Windu.

Semreh carried Heri's death with him for the rest of his life. He never forgot his old comrade and how he had treated Heri with disdain for his lack of skill…something he sought to correct in later years.

A few months later, at the opening of the Clone Wars, they both lost another friend. Stam was killed pursuing Count Dooku alongside his Master, by his general Sev'rance Tann.

After Geonosis, Semreh and a select group of special forces were dispatched to Sluis Van to train rebel forces to resist the Confederacy occupation. They failed and were routed, only saved by the timely arrival of a Republic battle group commanded by none other than his old friend Aubrie.

A short time after that, both Aubrie and her Master were killed in the Battle of Jabiim. Aubrie, having lost her master soon after arriving, stayed behind with eight other padawans to hold back the Confederacy forces advancing on them while the Republic forces retreated. They held for five days while the Republic transports were delayed by poor weather. Only Anakin, ordered by the Chancellor to leave and personally oversee the evacuation, survived. Aubrie was the last to fall, killing the Confederacy's commanding officer in a personal duel and being shot in turn.

Jabiim fell, and the bodies of many Jedi who fell there, many of whom were classmates of Semreh, never were recovered. Semreh buried himself into the war after that, devoting himself to transforming from a studious book worm to a soldier.

Nostwa informed the Council of the body of the female bounty hunter. They all agreed that Semreh's anger and rage had overpowered whatever blocks they placed on him. Nostwa also warned them about her fears that they were being blinded by something in the Force.

By the end of the Clone Wars, of the Ibo-Hin Strike Force, only Semreh would be left alive.

Gerik would learn of Kara's death, and the circumstances around it. A few months later, when word was sent out that bounty hunters were being rallied around the Confederacy to fight and kill Jedi (Led by one Cad Bane) Gerik joined immediatley, becomign an early recruit of the Corpse Corp. To him, fighting Jedi was no longer professional, but a personal vendetta.


	72. Chapter 72 Recovery

Semreh leapt through the rubble, dodging flying stones and the remains of the street. Somewhere, in the center of this swirling, maelstrom of dust and debris, was Tara. Semreh could feel her, the core of the swirling Force energy, like the dense center of an apple. A poisoned apple.

"Damn it!" He cursed under his breath, slicing a head bound piece of rubble in two with a flick of his saber. Tara had completely lost control now and was tearing the whole street apart. Civilians caught up in her power were swept off their feet, their limbs broken by buffeting winds, their heads dashed into pulp by stones and shattered pieces of the street. Semreh tried to protect as many as he could, sending bursts of force energy from his palm to batter away the random fire, but Tara was just too powerful. It was like trying to sweep the ocean back with a broom.

Semreh's ability with the Force had just barely helped him survive the whirlpool of energy thus far, but only just. Semreh's ability let him glide through the Force energy. He was all finesse, turning the uncontrollable power coming from Tara against itself. He was a swordsman with a thin rapier. However, Tara was a rancor using a hoverbus as a club. She'd wear Semreh with brute force down eventually if he didn't do something.

Desperately, Smereh reached our for Jolon, trying to urge him to help Semreh contain his friend. But Jolon was well outside the vortex of energy, making it difficult for Semreh to reach him. He had been helping people flee the last Semreh had seen and seemed intent on ensuring that Tara's energy did not spread.

Semreh, struck by a sudden idea, picked up one of the stones scattered about the street with the force. It was about the size of his head, rough from the weathering inflicted on it by Tara's powers. Making a throwing motion with his arm, Semreh hurled the rock forward, putting as much power into its speed as possible. He put every ounce of strength he had into it. The rock might as well have been made of paper the way it bounced off the swirl of energy.

He had no choice. Semreh had to somehow break through to the eye of this storm. Gathering the Force about him into a swirling energy that may deflect the worst of the razor winds, Semreh stepped into the swirling winds and cutting debris, and disappeared.

* * *

"You and I both know the nature of your power won't let you simply live in peace. You've left death and destruction everywhere you go. Every planet, every city…Your own parents tried to kill you before you became a danger to them."

Tara gasped air as though starved for it, her small body shivering and shaking with absolute terror. The images of her mother and father standing before her, faces wet with tears as they raised weapons against her, flashed through her mind. The image of them laid outside the house minutes later, their bodies crushed by her instinctive urge to defend herself. SHe didn't understand then...she wasn't sure she did now. Again, Tara felt the crushing horror of what she'd done, and wept.

"Why are you doing this?" She sobbed. "WHY!?"

"Because you can stop it." The voice said from the comlink, still clenched in her fist. "Because you can end it all. All of it. Everyone. You could end me right now if you wanted to." Tara looked up and over her shoulder, already instinctively sensing where the man was.

"That's it." He was almost whispering now, as if growing more distant…like he was fading away. "End it. Destroy me. All you need…is a moment's rage…"

* * *

Jolon flipped up towards the building where he sensed a third Force sensitive in the area. Landing against the wall, he planted his feet firmly and sprinted up the sheer rock wall, using the Force to literally run straight up the wall. Whoever the Force sensitive was, he was definitely involved in this whole affair. Jolon would need to…detain whoever it was for questioning.

Jolon could sense the man, his faint Force signature glowing dimly through the walls of the building. The man was trying to hide himself but, having served as one of the Jedi traveling to new planets in search of Force sensitive natives, he had acquired a certain gift for recognizing the aura of Force energy.

He finally made it to the windowsill closest to the man. It was on the corner of the building facing the street below. Jolon clung to the window, reaching beneath his coat for the belt he kept on him constantly. There, he found his two greatest possessions. A small datapad containing his research on the Force for the past couple decades, and a small cylinder of silver encasing a crystal made of the faintest blue. His lightsaber.

Jolon rarely had the need to use it anymore. The Force provided him with all the weapons he needed, and, though he was still as skilled in combat as any younger Jedi, he was getting older and had little patience for the long drawn out acrobatics of the younger generation. Still, this man, whoever he was, was skilled enough to ambush and defeat someone with the raw power of Tara. An impressive feat considering that she had just shattered the blocks Jolon had placed on her.

There was a snap and sizzle, followed by the heavy crash of concrete falling in on the building. Jolon stepped through the hole calmly, one hand projecting the light from his saber about the room, the other raised and cocked to hurl lightning. But the room was empty.

Propped against a wall next to the window was a heavy blaster with an elongated scope and barrel. The sniper had apparently left in a hurry. Or it was bait…

Either way, Jolon had little time to consider where the assassin may have been, as a pair of metal studded boots swung down from the ceiling, blurring towards his head. But though the boots moved as blurs, Jolon's reflexes made his dodge nearly invisible.

The assassin, matching the description as the one from Naboo given to Jolon by Semreh, spun away from Jolon, landing in a balanced fighting stance. Jolon lowered his saber, disigniting it and letting the room fall into sudden blackness. He felt surprise radiate off the masked man, followed by dismay as Jolon fired a single concentrated bolt of Force lightning from his two fingers.

For a moment, the room was briefly illuminated with the light of a star as the bolt missed the assassin by mere inches.

"_He dodged it."_ Jolon thought grimly. "_Impossible_." Or at least, it should have been.

Force lightning was different from natural lightning. Unlike natural lightning, which is largely light, Force lightning is composed of mostly electrical energy, which would move slower than light. Still, it should have been too fast for any normal man to see, let alone dodge. If Jolon had any doubts before about the man's Force sensitivity, they were dispelled.

"Give up." Jolon warned in a tightly controlled voice. "Disarm whatever explosive you have stored up here, and drop your weapons."

"My my," The man shook his head mockingly, "So you've realized I have explosives set up. Very good. Very good indeed."

Jolon raised his hand again, charging it with electricity again. The eerie light illuminated the man, whose mask glowed a coppery color in the dark.

"I'd hoped to use the explosions to frame the little girl. If the Chasers believe you are attacking their citizens, they will stop supporting you."

"So, you're working with the terrorists that planted the bombs?" Jolon sidestepped, trying to glimpse and opening as the two of them circled. The discarded blaster rifle leaning on the wall caught his eye. "Why?"

"Nah, I had nothing to do with them. I merely learned of their intentions and decided to take advantage of the chaos they would create. My own bomb was…insurance."

Jolon continued circling, but simultaneously began subtly wrapping the rifle in a Force grip.

"And your interest in Tara?

The assassin's eyes seemed to grin from beneath the mask. "She is extremely valuable to me. A pawn in a much greater, more personal game that I'm playing." He laughed nastily. "I suppose she's more valuable than that. More a rook...or something."

"I see." The old Jedi raised the blaster rifle, now trained on the unsuspecting assassin's back. "You'll understand that I can't let you leave then."

"Of course." The assassin cocked his head and Jolon knew he'd finally felt Jolon's attack. "Neither of us are."

There was a surge of Force energy. Jolon pulled the trigger of the blaster rifle, sending three bolts of plasma into the man's back. A second later, the room simply exploded, shattering into billions of pieces. Jolon felt as though he'd been crushed between a pair of giant hands. The telekinetic energy rocked him, tossing his body away and scattering the remains of the entire upper corner of the building.

* * *

Semreh had made it. His lip was cut and bleeding profusely, and his pinky and ring finger on his left hand were broken by a stray stone. But he had made it. Tara. The eye of the storm.

She was kneeling, the center of calm and chaos. Her gloved hands clenched her blond hair, as if trying to shield her ears from a terrible noise. Standing, unnaturally intact amongst all the destruction, was a comlink booth. The glass was shattered, and what remained of the metal frame was twisted and bent, but the comlink hand piece was clutched in Tara's hand.

"Tara!" Semreh said sharply, hurrying forward. But his friend didn't seem to hear her. She was muttering to herself, and kept wincing in pain. Semreh took a knee, and grabbed her shoulder. "Tara."

She spun around, her eyes sightless and distant. Her hair was flying wildly, making her look formidable and out of control. For the first time since he met her, Semreh genuinely feared her.

"Tara." He murmured pulling her close before she could pull away. When he spoke, he put every ounce of command into his voice. "You need to calm down. Now."

He did not yell, but something in Semreh's voice seemed to get through to her. Life came back into her eyes, and fear laced her voice.

"Semreh, please help me."

"I will Tara. I promise." He held her tight, feeling her heart beating a tattoo against his chest. "Jolon and I will help you control your power. We'll give you your life back."

Tara buried her face into his shoulder, sobbing quietly. Semreh felt her tears soaking his thick sweatshirt.

"Please…Just don't leave me. I don't want to be alone. Not again."

Semreh stroked her hair soothingly, holding her frail body close as she shook. He pulled back, looking down at her as she looked up at him. The winds began to die down as Tara's eyes met his, and Semreh smiled.

"I'll always be there for you Tara. I swear."

* * *

When the Chaser's recovered Jolon, he was far from the happiest man in the galaxy. Having one of his own apprentices blow up a room he'd been standing in and launching him a good half mile across a city apparently filled with terrorists and Imperial assassins had put him in a foul mood by the time two dark suited Chasers helped him limp back to the Chaser base.

"Where's the girl?" He asked Semreh moments after cursing out everyone in the room.

"In the infirmary." Daichi answered. He and most of the Melida/Daan command structure were clustered around the strategic hologram projector. It showed the planet Melida/Daan, areas under the umbrella of protection provided by the hidden shield projectors marked green, and a fleet of ships orbiting.

"We have a slightly more pressing situation anyways." Nield said through gritted teeth. "It seems-"

But Jolon had already left, the fluttering of his long jacket loud in the stunned silence that followed.

"Well," Daichi watched the old man's retreating back with mild surprise, "Guess you can catch him up later Semreh."

"Of course." Semreh agreed, flexing his newly healed fingers. "Continue."

"Well, the last couple hours have spooked the Ruling Council."

"They're terrified that those attacks are retaliation by the Imperial government for our resistance to Imperialization." Nield in particular looked exhausted as he spoke, his normally carefully groomed hair frayed and messy. "I just got back from three hours of convincing them to not plead for a larger Imperial garrison. Not to mention the fact that some just want to follow Naboo's approach and accept an Imperial governor."

Semreh nodded. News from Naboo was that the Empire had installed their own puppet queen to keep the local populous in check, and that Panaka had been appointed Moffof the Chommell sector. In retrospect, it made sense. The former security captain was known to be somewhat of a bigot to the local Gungan population, which was right in line with the Empire's xenophobic policies.

"Was it the Empire who carried out these attacks?" Sami asked, looking at Daichi. The Chaser nodded.

"We have every reason to believe so. After all, the Empire benefited most from this attack. They've used the unrest to justify sending a larger fleet to help secure our surrounding trade routes and are now pressuring us to increase the side of their garrison."

"Do they know that the garrison is dead?" Semreh asked in alarm. Daichi opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Nield, who chuckled grimly.

"We think they've known for a while now, but they just don't care." Nield gestured lazily at the holoprojector. "Melida/Daan is relatively unimportant to them. When we killed the garrison, we put our own agents in charge of making it seem to be running smoothly, which is the only reason the Imperial fleet hasn't burned us off the face of the planet."

"The emperor doesn't have time to focus on a little backwater rebellion." Daichi added. "The only reason he'd starting to pay attention now is," He hesitated for a moment before looking meaningfully at Semreh, "Well, because of you."

He reached for the holoprojector, zooming it in on the Imperial fleet cordoning on the planet. "Captain Templeton has moved our 2 dreadnaughts between the Imperial fleet and the planet. That, and our orbital space station and shipyard, will give us some warning if the Imperial fleet starts to move, but Templeton says there's no way he can hold if the whole fleet starts to move."

"What kind of firepower are they packing?"

"Enough to install a blockade and install a ground force." Daichi reported. "Two _Victory-_classStar Destroyers, plus the _Regal_ which is still in orbit, one of the newer _Victory II's_, maybe a dozen _Carrack-_class and _Tartan_-class patrol ships, and two converted escort carriers. They look like _Acclamators_ that have been gutted and loaded with a couple wings of ties." As he mentioned each ship, Daichi pointed them out on the holoprojector. "However, the fleet is lacking enough transport and ground vessels to be an outright invasion force."

"So," Semreh scratched his chin thoughtfully. "They still don't know about your preparations."

"Probably not, or they just don't care. It could be that they know we're mobilizing troops, but haven't realized we've set up shield generators able to repel their bombardment. Could be they just plan to vape us from orbit if we get out of line."

"A disconcerting notion if there ever was one." Nield commented wryly. "Especially considering how underequipped our militia is."

"What do you mean?" Semreh asked curiously. "I thought you've started mobilizing them?"

"For all the good it has done." Nield murmured irritably. "Without the Council's authorization, I can't force our industrial sectors to start producing weapons for our troops." He looked at Sami. "How many men do you estimate we can mobilize again?"

"We've got a whole planet of people." She shrugged, and jokingly started counting on her fingers. "If we can get 1/16th of our population to serve, we should be able to field around 30 million combat soldiers, plus support crews."

"Right, but that's thirty million poorly trained soldiers, half of whom will be fighting with their bare hands, and the other half with slugthrowers." Nield grimaced, imagining the image.

"Why are so many of your weapons slugthrowers?" Semreh asked in amazement. Even the most poorly equipped army these days had a few blasters or heavy lasers. Slugthrowers were left to rebel forces, or for armies where the complicated eletronics of blasters could not be used or easily maintained.

"After the civil war, we outlawed the manufacturing of heavy arms like blasters and lasers. At the time, with the hard liners and rebel groups that still wanted to fight after the war still trying to go at it, it seemed like a good idea. When the Confederacy invaded, we used captured blasters and old antique slugthrowers to push them off, but those will do little good against the battle trained stormtroopers."

"Ugh," Semreh groaned in disgust, rubbing his temple in irritation, "Can't you do anything to force the Council out of deadlock?"

"I intend to do just that," Nield assured in a firm voice, "But that won't solve the problem of our lack of weapons. There's no way our industrial sections can furnish our military with enough small arms, let alone the armor and artillery that we'll need to hold off Imperial forces."

Despair hit Semreh again, burning his stomach with icy fear. There was no way out that he could see. To fight the Empire, they'd need vehicles and armor that could go head to head, or at least occupy the Imperial armor. Otherwise, the Imperial forces would blitz any amount of infantry the Melida/Daan military threw at it. Then, an idea hit Semreh. A coupel week old memory rose to the surface of his mind.

"Could your factories handle producing just the armor and munitions?" He asked, looking at Nield.

Nield, for his part, look surprised. After a moment's thought, he nodded slowly. "I suppose, particularly if the Vorzdyiaks and Paigun added their factories to the equation."

"Good." Semreh grinned, getting to his feet. "Because I think- I think- I know where we can get some guns. Some big guns."

* * *

Amistad was, if nothing else, prompt. He waited on the bridge of the _Regal_ awaiting the delegation from the Emperor's fleet. He knew one of them, Admiral Forte, by reputation rather than personal experience. However, the admiral had mentioned bringing an emissary from the Emperor. Again, Amistad did not know the man, but he assumed it would be this new Lord Vader.

Personally, Amistad had never heard of any one man being named Lord in the Imperial hierarchy. He had no idea where that put Vader in it. However, he had also heard of Vader's subjugation of Kashyyyk, and that alone concerned him.

"Where are they?" He asked the ensign manning the communication console in the command pit.

"On their way Admiral." The ensign looked up at the admiral, gesturing at his console. "Apparently, they had some solar interference on their way here. Had to clear their electronics for navigation."

"Aye." The admiral took a calming breath, trying to ease his panic.

He'd agreed to help the Emperor run discreet slaving operations on Melida/Daan. He'd contacted the Trandoshan slavers, and allowed them to slip onto the planet undetected. He'd worked with them, in exchange for the prestige and wealth the Emperor could offer. He'd served well…So why was the Emperor sending him a personal representative. Most people who received a personal envoy from the Emperor, particularly, tended to live short, violent lives.

Still, the Emperor probably still needed him. Amistad knew that was the only thing that kept him alive after the capturing of one of his slaving bands by Melida/Daan forces. It was that damn clone! If he hadn't allowed himself to be captured, there would have been nothing connecting the slaving operations back to the Empire. Now though, the Council, particularly their president Nield, was suspicious of them. And if word got out that the Empire was in the slaving business, than other worlds could revolt out of fear and indignation.

"_Whatever the Emperor needs these slaves for must be of supreme importance to risk that." _Amistad thought, calming the more he thought of it. "_Which in turn makes me of supreme importance."_

"Sir." The com officer said, looking back up from his console. "The Emperor's delegation had arrived."

Amistad nodded. "Good." He turned to his second, a sallow faced lieutenant named Friedman. "Take a detachment of troopers and escort the delegation to the bridge."

"Aye sir." The lieutenant spun on his heel, already summoning a detachment over his comlink.

* * *

A short time later, one of the stormtroopers alerted him via comlink that the delegation had arrived. Amistad thanked him, and ordered them to allow the delegation to enter. They did so, striding through the doors before they could even finish sliding open.

Leading the group, clearly the leader, was the man Amistad assumed was the Emperor's envoy. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw it wasn't Vader, but was still wary. The man had a lightsaber clipped to his belt, hidden beneath long maroon zeyd-cloth robes that were the uniform of the Imperial Inquisitorious. Not Vader, but definitely not good judging by the face of his lieutenant, who's face had gone from unhealthy yellow, to ghost white.

The man was young, with a handsome face framed by black shaggy, slightly curled black hair. His eyes were alive with curiosity, and the flitted across the command deck as soon as he entered, as if trying to take in every detail he could. The eyes themselves seemed grayish in color, but were flecked with a strange gold tint that Amistad couldn't place.

Following, to the envoy's right, was a hard faced man wearing the uniform of an Imperial Admiral. This could only be Admiral Forte. He'd supposedly fought in engagements since the Stark Hyperspace war, and had distinguished himself throughout much of the Clone Wars. Though he was considered too close to the Jedi for promotion, he was also to valuable to do away with. So, Amistad assumed he'd been shunted to a lower rank so he may still be of use, but remain under control.

Forte, with his long, carefully trimmed beard and balding head, was the very definition of an old war horse. People said must have had some Bothan in him his tactics were so devious and daring at the same time. Around his olive green Imperial Uniform, he wore an old Republic fleet commanders jacket that ended at his ankles, and had a thin ceremonial sword thrust into a gilded belt. He even made Amistad, notorious for his vanity and carefully maintained appearance, seem poor and unkept.

"My lord." Amistad bowed slightly, keeping eye contact with the Inquisitor. "It is an honor to welcome the Emperor's messenger to the _Regal_."

"Quite." The man said, his voice smooth and conversational. "But I'm afraid you are wrong."

Amistad started. "Sir?"

A second later, the Inquisitor's hand raked across his face. Stars flashed across his eyes, lights blinding him. When his head cleared, he was looking at his formerly clean command deck now soiled by a few flecks of blood from his face.

"The only lord you serve is Lord Palpatine. Your only business is devoting your life to him. Your existence is devoted to bathing in his light."

Amistad, through his clearing head, managed to nod. "Yes, of course Inquisitor."

The bridge crew was silent as Amistad lifted his corpulent body back to its feet. Around him, his crew was staring determinedly at their work, trying to ignore the episode happening above them.

"Now," The Inquisitor waved a hand Admiral Forte, "The good admiral here is placing his fleet under your command. From now on, Melida/Daan is to be considered under martial law." Amistad started and opened his mouth to protest, but the Inquisitor raised his hand. "As for your 'extracurricular' activities, the Emperor has ordered me to ensure that these continue and, if fighting on the surface were to escalate, are increased."

"Of course." Amistad was back to his full height now and that steeled his nerve a little. "I'm assuming we will have the same deal regarding payment?"

The Inquisitor's head snapped up towards the admiral, his eyes flashing. The admiral flinched visibly.

"Your reward will be to bathe in the light of our Lord, and the forgiveness of your transgressions against his light."

Amistad stared for a moment, surprised, but then snapped back to attention. "Aye sir."

Amistad, though a mediocre battlefield commander, was an excellent politician and desktop general. This Inquisitor, no matter his reason for being here, was a fanatic. And a religious one at that. Amistad had heard rumors about something like this. Men who worshiped the Emperor within the Imperial intelligence community. Literally worshiped.

Amistad had no use for such beliefs, and he certainly didn't believe the Emperor divine. Still, he didn't dare bring his private disbelief before this man.

"You may call me Raam." The man said. "And the first thing I want you to do is recall the team of mercenaries that were dispatched to the surface. They have acted illegally, and will be brought in…alive."

"As you will my lord."

"Finish cordoning off the planet." He continued. "I will be apprising the Emperor on your progress."

"Of course." Amistad bowed again, this time keeping his eyes carefully lowered. He added belatedly, reluctantly. "My Lord."

* * *

When the Rebel strike force returned to the Lantern, they were surprised to see it a hive of activity. At first the ships of the strike force began powering up weapons, but Captain Drex Oodian took control quickly, ordering the ships to stand down.

"Hold your fire." He barked. "Those are ours. All ships, hold your fired!"

A rapid series of confirmations came over the comlinks, and a single message coming from Lanter control.

"Task Force 1, this is Lantern Command and Control. You are cleared for approach."

"Aye Lantern. Approaching now."

As the Task Force moved through the asteroid belt, Drex watched the ships moving about it. There had to be at least a hundred, of all shapes and sizes. The long cylindrical _Invincible-_class capital ships, bristling with armament. _Sabaoth-_cruisers moving in formation throughout the field. The nimble _Marauder_-class corvettes and other smaller ships formed a screen around them…There were just too many to mention, and even some that were either so modified or rare, Drex could not recognize them.

Also, far more numerous than Drex had expected, there were several types of Confederacy capital ships. The smooth hulled _Munificent_-class frigates of the Banking Clan. The Trade Federations _Lucrehulk_-class battleships and core ships stood like silent sentinels over the gathering ships. And finally, the main stay of the old Confederacy Navy, there were the _Providence_-class destroyers and carriers. The dreadnaughts of the fleet, they had served as flagships for many of the Confederacy's battles, and had carried General Grievous himself.

So many ships, all gathered together, and Drex wasn't even counting the smaller freighters and snub fighters. Z-95 Headhunters, old Cloakshape fighters, V-wings and ARC-fighters, H-60 Tempest Bombers, Porax-38 starfighters from Utapau, and even a few Delta-7's that were so popular amongst the Jedi.

Drex powered up his personal comlink, contacting Lanter again.

"Lantern, what exactly is going on?"

"We're going to war commander Oodian. Lantern Command and Control is holding a meeting now to discuss our orders. They've requested your presence."

"Copy that." Drex took a deep breath, realizing that the galaxy was about to change.

* * *

C-41 was retrieved a few hours later by his bloodied and bewildered companions. They'd been relying on the two most qualified to take down the eldest and most skilled Jedi, and C-41 and CTA-132 had both failed miserably. The senior Jedi, whoever he was, had soundly beaten both of them, while the rest of the mercs had been scattered. Still, by the time the Chasers arrived on the scene, they'd retrieved their employers and scattered.

Jenna and the children had also been easy to find. C-41 had silently hoped they would use their chance to flee and escape off planet, but the mercs had found them huddled together beneath some dilapidated old building, and had dragged them back without further incident.

It wasn't long before they found a secluded safehouse in the nearby slums of Zehava. They grabbed whatever gear they could from their former base of operations and made a dash for another private lair where they could plan their next move. Unfortunately, that move was planned for them by the time they had managed to set back up their sub-space communications in the abandoned apartment complex they had rented.

"You are to return to the _Regal_." The small holographic head of Admiral Amistad announced, sounding irritated. "The Emperor has begun to take a personal interest in your hunt, and has sent an envoy to report to him personally on the situation." Judging by the grim expression on the Admirals face, this was not good news. Probably because his slaving operations, though overlooked by Tarkin, would now come under the scrutiny of the Emperor himself.

"Of course Admiral." C-41 jerked his head in a nod, his faceless helmet again saving him the need for social graces like forcing a frown down. C-41 didn't like this. Not-one-bit. They'd fought the Jedi and Chasers to a standstill, which was no small feat. It seemed like the best option was to press their advantage while they had the chance, and while the Jedi were still licking their wounds.

"Stars…This is a karking mess." CTA-132 murmured, snapping his blades in and out of their sheaths with sharp clicks. "Still, the enemy is one Jedi down…even if it's only a little girl."

C-41 nodded, but certainly didn't share the same giddy feeling of pride over anyone's death. It was just a job to him, something that gave his service in GAR meaning.

"They said they'd be sending a shuttle tonight. We're to meet it at the Zehava spaceport…and bring anyone with us who knows about us." CTA-132 glanced at Jenna and her orphans, giving a small jerk of annoyance. "Means the kids too."

Feeling seemed to drain from C-41's legs, and he felt his knees trying to shake. "You think this envoy, whoever he is, means to kill us?"

"Nah," CTA-132 leaned back in his chair, nonchalantly twiddling his fingers, "If they wanted to kill us, they'd send a battalion of assassins after us…Or I guess me really." CTA-132 smirked nastily. "They wouldn't need much for you."

C-41 ignored the snide comment, instead beginning packing up his weaponry and packs of ammo. Despite the assassin's assurances, he had an ominous feeling about all this.

**_Read and Review. Thanks to everyone!_**


	73. Chapter 73 ORCS

**_Please enjoy! Read and Review_**

Semreh and Fless did not have to look long to find their man. As the two of them took a speeder towards the Trinity Bar. It been a good couple weeks since they'd last been there, but Semreh's meeting with his old friend Obs at the old pub had stuck in the back of his mind.

"I didn't think about it then," He explained to Fless as they drove towards the bar, "But what are the odds of me, meeting with a prominent crime lord on a backwater planet like Melida/Daan."

"What exactly are you implying?" Fless bristled angrily. He was coming very close to stepping on Chaser pride.

"Don't get me wrong. I think you and your fellow agents have effectively purged Melida/Daan of organized criminal activity…But I think someone has outsmarted you."

Fless snorted derisively, staring out the window as if in deep thought. After a while, he spoke.

"You may be right about that…But we certainly didn't miss any of these groups on accident."

Semreh nodded in understanding. "I thought as much. You let one or two groups of criminals survive and thrive in secret. Right?"

Fless glanced at Semreh sharply before looking away again, his eyes focused on the road.

"I'll explain more when you explain why we're going back to this bar."

"Ah," Semreh smiled, tapping his nose knowingly, "But it will be so much more pleasurable to show you."

When Semreh and Fless finally arrived at the Trinity Bar, they knew they were already being watched.

"Three men on the roof, one on the street." Fless murmured as they approached. "Sentries. He'll be running."

"Gotcha. Want to circle around and cut him off?"

"You got it." Fless continued walking forward until the sentries vision was obscured by the bars porch, and then broke off to the left, disappearing down a side alley. Semreh continued forward, taking a deep breath before sliding the metallic door open with a hiss.

As he suspected, the bar was empty. Anyone who had been there, had scattered. Semreh walked casually up to the bar and calmly asked the bartender where he could find the restroom. The heavyset man hesitated before jerking a thumb back towards a hallway crammed between the bar and the far wall. Semreh strolled back there casually, humming to himself as he did.

When he opened the swinging door of the fresher, he was not surprised to see the heavy-set Obs trying to fit his way through the rounded window into the alley below, two of his followers helping him.

"Hello Obs." He greeted pleasantly as he made his way towards the nearest sink. The two men whirled, their hands going to their blasters, but not firing. They kept the weapons trained on Semreh as he calmly washed his hands in the sink.

"Oh, hi Semreh." Obs smiled, scrambling back down from the window sill. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, just savoring the night life." Semreh jerked a thumb back towards the empty, sundrenched bar.

"Ah, well," Obs began backing himself back through the window again, watching Semreh warily, "I'd love to chat, but I really should get back to the Syndicate before they start to ask questions about my vacation. So…"

With that, Obs dropped from the window, followed by his two lackeys. Semreh sighed, shook his hands, and reached for the paper dispenser. He jerked the handle irritably, but no paper would fall. Annoyed, he grabbed a fistful of his sweatshirt, rubbing the water onto that before meandering over to the window. Looking over the side, he was pleased to see Fless standing besides two apparently unconscious forms, and one struggling figure.

"You got him Fless?" Semreh murmured after leaping down after him.

"Yeah." The Chaser holstered his stun baton after giving Obs a warning tap. Obs stopped struggling and glared angrily at Semreh.

"I thought we were buds!"

Fless snorted derisively. "A Jedi and a criminal friendship is like a akk hound making doe eyes with a lamb."

"I am offended." Obs clutched at his heart, moaning in mock pain. "I am so much better looking than an akk hound."

"Who says you're the akk hound?" Fless shot back, but Semreh interrupted him.

"Enough. I came to talk Obs, not to fight."

Obs glanced up suspiciously before settling back against the wall, his legs crossed.

"And were I inclined to talk," Obs smiled, stroking his chin in interest, "What would I be so inclined to talk about?"

"Come on!" Semreh growled with a roll of his eyes. "We both know you're not on Melida/Daan for vacation. The only thing to do here is drink in the city, or drink in the country. No offense." He added hastily to Fless.

"None taken." The Chaser let his hand fall towards the holstered metal stun baton. "So, why are you here?"

Obs sighed, realizing he was not likely to get out of this without telling them something.

"The Syndicate isn't doing that well." He confessed with raised hands. "The Hutts have made some deal with the Empire. Certain Hutt clans get to use Imperial space lanes, and the Hutts use their extensive influence and wealth to help the Empire hunt down their enemies."

Semreh nodded. He knew Obs was a high ranking member of the Outer Rim Crime Syndicate, but had never been able to figure out just high ranking. The Outer Rim Crime Syndicate was essentially the Outer Rims answer to a lack of criminal organization. The Hutts originally took advantage of this chaos to squash any criminal group that was not their own. Naturally, some criminal elements eventually banded together, and formed ORCS to protect their interests.

"They catch any Jedi?" Semreh asked earnestly, but Obs just shrugged.

"No more than the Empire, which isn't a lot." Obs looked around, realized he wasn't much of a prisoner anymore, and pushed himself to his feet. "Anyways, I came here to see if I could convince a local crime lord to join us. We've been in negotiations the past couple weeks now."

"Really?" Semreh gave a sideways glance at Fless. "Care to explain this?"

He cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. "They're called the Scavengers. They're a swoop bike gang that operates in the southern hemisphere, just outside one of our shield cities. The one called Villda." Fless produced a small map from inside his jacket pocket, pointing at the southernmost city in the ring of cities that had been chosen to conceal shield generators.

"After the Confederacy invaded, certain elements of the Chasers decided that we needed these small, out of the way fringe elements to provide us with information." Fless hurriedly placed the map back into his pocket with a pat. "We have a simple agreement: They don't kill anyone or run any spice or other illegal substances, and we don't bring the hammer down on them."

Obs through his hands up, exasperated. "So you're telling me I've been negotiating with the stars damned saints of the criminal underworld." He nearly fell over from annoyance. "What the heck do they do without spice?"

"Mostly, they smuggle luxury goods with exceedingly high tariffs on them. Chak-root and stuff that is kept high priced so only the rich can afford it."

Obs groaned again. "Even worse!" he said, grasping his hair in despair, "They're kriffing modern day Robin Hoods!"

"Hardly." The edges of Fless's lip jerked in disgust. "They're criminals like the rest of you, but this is an easy, safe way for them to get money. They inform us on the goings ons of other criminal groups so we can crush them, but if the Chasers didn't exist, they'd be running rampant."

Semreh, ignoring Fless's obvious dislike for the topic, turned back to Obs.

"Tell me; what would the Jedi need to do to get the ORCS support?"

The statement took Obs by surprise, and even Fless looked like he may blow his flaming red hair off his head.

"What for?" Obs squinted suspiciously.

"We need guns. You need credits to hold onto your territory against the Hutts." Semreh shrugged. "I know it wouldn't take long to put all that spice money to work for gun running."

"Then you also probably know there's a rather large Imperial fleet circling your planet." Obs though was far too interested now to not inquire further. "Still…how many guns?"

"Couple million, plus ammunition and parts."

Silence. Then Obs gave a weak, half hearted laugh.

"Oh, I thought you wanted something impossible." He said, his voice layered in sarcasm.

"If you don't want our business," Fless snapped, "We can always work with someone else."

Again, silence. Then…

"Okay, I'm not saying this is likely, but it is possible." Obs rubbed the back of his head, looking worried as he ran numbers in his head. "Lots of the fighting took place in the Outer Rim…and most of it was in our territory. Over the past couple years, we've been collecting weapons and supplies from both sides, depending on who lost whatever battle happened to be being fought at the time." Obs began to get a slow smile the more he thought about it.

"What's more, the Imperial forces are still having trouble rounding up some of the remaining Confederates, which means there are entire armies worth of weapons just lying in the hands of deactivated droids. Assuming that the droid army is as large as everyone was saying, we could take less than a percent of their weapons and still stay unnoticed."

Semreh patted the man on the shoulder. "See, I knew you could-"

"Now hold on!' Obs said through gritted teeth, brushing Semreh's hand away. "Just because I can organize this, doesn't mean I will. Unless there's a mountain of credits you can offer-"

"How about the coffers of a whole planet?" Fless interrupted. "How's that sound?"

Obs swallowed auditable, but still looked unconvinced. "You're talking about challenging the Empire…and it's not like that money will keep the Hutts off of us."

Fless nodded grudgingly. "Fine…I can talk to Daichi about giving you a group of Chasers. But we'll have to meet with our own commanders and the Scavengers, and of course, we'll need you to come back to base. Can you use them as a pipeline for the weapons?"

"That was my original idea." Obs was twitching nervously. His fingers twitched, a worried tick, but he nodded. "Fine, I'll take you to their base, and we'll talk business."

* * *

Jolon towered over Tara, checking her vitals on the various machines and sensors hooked to his body. He stroked his small beard thoughtfully, his eyes boring into the small girls forehead. His barriers were back in place, and her powers were simply simmering beneath them. For now, she was under control.

Her physical injuries had been minor, but Jolon could feel her confidence and trust were shaken. Jolon had essentially been her Master, but now she shied away from his Force touch, her mind throwing up barriers of its own.

More importantly, Tara had attacked him. She must have felt him up there in that room besides the assassin, but had simply not cared. That concerned him. If she lost control again, he wasn't sure even he could stop her. Still, her powers would be a great asset to the rebels, and it was an asset they couldn't afford to lose.

* * *

Scout waited nervously on the sparsely wooded plain that covered the underground Chaser base. The Chasers had sealed off their hanger and main entrances a while ago, leaving only the secret manholes and small entrances. So, someone had to meet the ship bringing soldiers and lead them to the base.

This was just an advance guard, a small group of warriors leading the way, but Scout wanted to greet them personally. After all, their leader was her master.

The shuttle touched down gently, using the sparse vegetation as camouflage. The ramp fell, and out walked Yasuo, followed by ten warriors of the Kilmaulsi. The warriors were armed to the teeth, wearing their trademark armor and carrying a massive variety of weapons. All had the traditional knives at their belts, but that was the only similarity.

Heavy shields, several types of spears, swords, axes, and, Scout saw with trepidation, a wicked sickle like weapon attached to a long chain. Leading them was Master Yasuo, looking plain and composed in his robes, his weapons hidden beneath them. Scout bowed respectfully.

"Master Yasuo." Scout murmured respectfully. "Are these all the warriors you brought?"

"Yes. I thought it prudent to leave the others at your Lantern base. They will prepare for war their alongside the rest of your soldiers."

Of course. To arrive with the several hundred warriors of the Kilmaulsi would be foolish and hard to hide.

"These are representatives from each of the clans." Yasuo continued, waving a hand at each of the men. "And, their interpreter."

Scout looked confused for a moment, before she saw a small, floating orb float out nervously from behind Yasuo.

"Ah, Mistress Scout." I-C said happily. "I am pleased to see you fully functional again. Hopefully, your upgraded design will keep you from another embarrassing-"

The little droid gave a yelp of surprise and terror as Scout lunged at him, grabbing wildly.

"You are So-ho-hooo dead!" Scout yelled, but Yasuo had caught Scout around the middle with one of his arms.

"Calm yourself padawan."

Hearing herself addressed as padawan, her goal and sole desire for the past thirteen years, yanked her back into reality, and Scout let herself be lowered back to her feet by her master.

"Unless you are able to learn Kimaulisi in the next few minutes, which I doubt, I would allow the little metal thing to live."

"Yes master." Scout bowed respectfully again. "I am sorry."

Master Yasuo nodded solemnly, and Scout suddenly realized how serious this all was. Normally, Master Yasuo may have cracked a joke and brushed off Scout's outburst, but war was on the horizon, and the first of its combatants were already gearing up for battle. It was a bittersweet feeling.

"When will the rest of the army arrive?" Scout asked, leading her master and the warriors down once of the thin crevices of a nearby hillside. It was one of the least recognizable entrances to the base.

"When we call for them, they will be ready to move within an hour. They wait, until we have the advantage." Yasuo looked down at Scout, his face enigmatic beneath his tight fitting war mask. "I assume you have not been idle in my absence."

"Of course not master." Scout smiled up at him. "I have still haven't mastered the fourth tier, but I've meditated every day."

And it was true. Every day, Scout sat in her room, meditating when she wasn't training physically. At night, she meditated till she collapsed into sleep. During the day, she meditated until her limbs were numb from lack of blood flow. It was maddening.

At times, she felt she could almost feel the Force swirling around her, yet when she reached out to grab it, it broke away from her like a frightened creature. Master Yasuo had told her this was the only way she could train her Force powers. Unlike most Jedi, who had a reserve of their own Force energy, Scout would have to draw it from her surroundings. And for that she needed to hold…very…still. Which, it turns out, was a lot harder than she'd thought.

Scout was about to ask Yasuo a question about it when a loud squawking from one of the warriors caught her attention.

"Chieftain Dag wishes to know when he will be able to meet with the rest of the Jedi warriors. He also wishes to know why they've allowed the tiny child to meet us." I-C added dutifully, his bright photoreceptor blinking.

Scout bristled about the 'child' comment, but kept her anger under control. "Tell him there'll be a meeting tonight, and all the war leaders will be there."

I-C nodded, turning back to the warriors, chattering quickly in their language. Meanwhile, Yasuo looked down at Scout, staring for a while before Scout finally looked up. She smiled nervously. "What?"

"You've gotten taller." Yasuo's eyes seemed to smile beneath his mask. "You look older."

Scout looked down at herself. At first, she thought Yasuo was just making up for the chieftans little girl comment, but it was rather true. Like any teenager, she was growing quickly. Her body was becoming thicker, her lean body still girlish, but strong and only getting stronger. She was seventeen now (Note, Scout was born 34 BBY, and the purge was 19 BBY, so this story has now transitioned to late 18 BBY), and looked it.

"Thank you Master Yasuo." Scout bowed her head again in respect before asking hesitantly, "Does you being here mean we'll start training again?"

"I suppose we could find time between the war we are fighting." Again, Scout had the sneaking suspicion that whatever mouth Yasuo had beneath his mask was curved upwards in a knowing smile. "The war itself though may be training enough."

"So," Scout spoke slowly, "I'll get to fight."

"Isn't that the general purpose for lightsabers?" Yasuo said dryly, fingering his own weapons that hung from his belt like leaves. The most prominent was a pair of simple blades, long and hilt-less, with no guard to protect them. They were beautiful in their simplicity, like most of the weapons the giant birds made.

"Besides," Yasuo looked around as they entered the bustling Chaser base, "I'd like to meet whoever's running this war."

* * *

Raam entered the hanger, a cadre of the stormtroopers filing in after him. His maroon colored robes snapped at his ankles like dogs begging for a meal. He had what appeared to be a set of armor beneath the robe, a silvery substance that reflected the hanger lights. His ankles were protected by a kama like metal that poked out just beneath his robes.

Gerik had, after years of hunting them, learned to recognize Force sensitives. It wasn't hard. They all had the same swagger, that omnipotent look that said_ I'm better than you_. Gerik had already decided this guy was going to grind his nerves even before he'd opened his mouth.

"I will cut to the point." Raam stated, his hand visibly resting on the lightsaber at his belt. "You men are obviously not devoted to the Empire, with the exception of these fine and loyal troopers."

To the side, Gerik saw C-41 shift a little uncomfortably, and the assassin seemed far more still than was normal.

"However, I expect you to continue working with us. The actions of these Jedi and other Force users not under the careful eye of the Imperial government are unacceptable. The Empire has ordered me to hunt down any Force users who do not bow and swear fealty to the Emperor, and I shall."

Gerik rolled his eyes, but noticed the man's eyes seem to linger hungrily on Jenna before moving on.

"_Pervert."_ Gerik thought with disgust, fingering his holstered blaster. For a moment, he let his mind wonder into a fantasy of gutting this fanatic, but then his business sense kicked in. A dead employer would have difficulty paying him after all.

"Now, in a matter of days we will begin the installation of an Imperial garrison and begin the search for these renegades. You will be instrumental in this operation as you survived fighting them before."

"So, what do you want from us?" Radlir demanded, from the other end of their line.

"Intelligence." Raam explained. "I want to know who they're working with, what elements of the government have allied with them, and more importantly, how they fight." Raam turned, glaring through a viewport down at the planet below. "We suspect that the president and his Chasers have thrown their lot in with these heathens, but it is almost a sure thing that other planets will have worked with them. We have a chance here get the scent of this descent and follow it to our enemies. So, you men will stay here on the _Regal_. You will be paid, but you will not be permitted to leave until the situation on Melida/Daan has been settled."

Gerik felt everyone shift uncomfortably at this. Trapped on a ship with this Palpatine fanatic was hardly an advantageous situation for anyone. Even Amistad, who commanded every soldier on the ship, seemed uncomfortable. And, considering that that man controlled every code for security, every stormtrooper driven tank, and a ship ringed with turbolasers… that scared Gerik in a way no Jedi could.

* * *

Tag was not as young as he used to be. Especially for a Devaronian. Not old, but not young either. Still, when the boss had you standing watch outside a warehouse that normally belonged to the nearby customs agent, particularly one that the boss was 'chatting' with, you understood that a little cold was the least of your worries.

Right now, the worst of his worries was the pair of landspeeders making their way towards him from the nearby spaceport. The warehouse was used to hold supplies brought in from there while they were checked for contraband. The approach of the landspeeders either meant a shipment was arriving that the Scavengers had no knowledge about, or that someone was coming to interfere with their work.

It was possible. Though the Chasers of Melida/Daan were allied with the Scavengers, local law enforcement and the galaxy wide Merchant's Guild tended to be far more aggressive. On more than one occasion, Tag had been forced to help the rest of their group bury some bodies.

As the speeders pulled up and the occupants got out, Tag recognized the man leading them.

"Obs?" he said uncertainly, his hand drifting into his jacket for the contraband blaster he owned. "What's all this?"

"Easy Tag. I just want to see the boss."

"Really?" Tag didn't release his hold on his blaster. "Why?"

"I've found a business opportunity that might interest him. A very lucrative one."

"The boss is busy at the moment." Tag warned. "I'd rather not interrupt his…work."

Fless stepped forward now, his hands open in a sign of piece, but firm.

"Your _boss_ owes the Chasers, and if he has any sense, he'll come with us now."

Tag stared at the Chaser warily. He had not bargained on a Chaser showing up. His own gang that he'd run with before joining the Scavengers had been wiped out to a man by these guy…or rather, one Chaser agent in particular.

"Fine," Tag looked them all over, recognizing a younger boy as well now...but he carried himself with surprising confidence. "But he won't like it."

* * *

Sami leaned against the wall of the war room, her carbine hanging from her shoulder. She felt a little out of place, here amongst all these planet leaders and old men. She was sixteen and, although the commander of the Ranger Chasers, she looked out of place here.

Gathered around the holoprojector in the middle of the room were the mercenaries. Bren and Sonya seemed to be deep in conversation as they surveyed the virtual representation of Melida/Daan's defenses, while Bolt stared lifelessly into space across from them, his heavy rifle hanging loosely in one hand. For not the first time, Sami wondered what species he was. He certainly wasn't like any human she'd ever met.

Around the edges of the room, the various leaders who had thrown their lot in with the rebels were conversing. They'd been smuggled in by their various factions from the Lantern, where they're forces had gathered. This was also they're first time all meeting together.

A few Kilmaulsi chiefs were circled up, isolated and separate from the rest of the group. Three Nemoidians were in deep conversation with a pair of Hrakians, while small crowds worth of Vorzdyiaks were listening to a tall Muun flanked by a pair of Geonosians. All of them were fugitives of the Confederacy, rallied to the promise of resistance and shelter against the Empire.

Kalasaad Woztu himself had his head cocked as he surveyed the scene, a grim smile beneath his drooping mustache. He had arrived on his own personal yacht, having snuck many of these leaders past Imperial lines using a combination of bribes and charisma. Now, he spoke with Yasuo and Jolon, who both seemed to be listening intently.

Tara sat alone, a pair of ear buds attached to her head as she bobbed her head to some fast beat song while Elena and Halber looked on nearby. Elena had her usual intense glare, while Halber was his usual passive self. Scout stood nearby as well, but she was pacing restlessly, her saber spinning nervously in her hand.

Sten and Daichi flanked the single entrance to the room, silent guardians to the tremulous events surrounding them. They were all here…the rebellion was here. Its leaders stood, the vanguards of their armies. And Sami, a sixteen year old soldier, was among them.

Suddenly, the door to the room hissed open, and in swept Semreh, followed closely by Nield and Fless…and a man Sami knew all too well.

"_Mawat!"_

**_Next Chapter will reveal Sami's past. Not a flashback, but will explain a lot. Please Read and review!_**


	74. Chapter 74 Alliance of Hate

_**Sorry for the long update, but my life has gone to hell, and I had to get my personal life in order. A combination of a girl I was dating cheating on me with my best friend, surgery, and a new computer (yay!) has delayed me. However, I am definatley still working on it! Please enjoy and review!**_

Semreh had less than an instant to react as he heard the clicking of a slugthrower pistol. Guided by the force, he whipped his hand forward, pulling the pistol from Sami's hand with the Force. The weapon spun across the room, landing safely into Elena's waiting hands.

Sami then tried to swing her carbine up towards the gang leader, but Scout and Halber were already there. Halber grabbed her in a bear hug, pinning her arms to her side while Scout relieved her of her weapon with a neat little wrist lock, emptying the pistol and tossing it away.

"What's the matter with you!?" Nield yelled, slamming his fist on the holoprojector.

"ME!?" Sami roared back furiously. "How could you let him come back!?" Behind her, two of Sami's Rangers shifted their feet nervously, gripping their weapons a bit tighter. Semreh nodded at Fless and Sten, who both sidled closer to the two soldiers. The last thing they needed was a civil war here.

"I didn't." Nield scowled, glaring at the gang leader and Semreh. "I'm really hoping you have an explanation for this. Do you realize that you've just brought the most hated man on Melida/Daan here?"

"Interesting," Semreh said, unconcerned, "but irrelevant. Mawat runs a swoop bike gang in the south, and has offered to use his clubs territory as a pipeline for blasters and other supplies."

That got people's attention. Many of the side conversations and murmuring died down as the crowd waited with baited breath to hear what the young Jedi had to say.

"My name is Mawat." The criminal boss stepped forward. He was rather old, about Nield's age, but far more weathered and beaten down. Still, he stood at ease, a quiet strength to his stance.

"Years ago, I was exiled from Melida/Daan for an attempted coup against Nield and the rest of the Young. I laid low for many years, staying out of sight until the Separatists invaded, where I helped organize resistance alongside the Chasers. After the war, Daichi here approached me, and offered to let me run my illegitimate business in return for helping them keep much of Melida/Daan crime free."

Semreh glimpsed Nield as Mawat continued his story. The normally cool and collected president had turned red, color rising in his ears. A few of the Chasers other than Sami also seemed upset, as did every native Melida/Daan in the room.

"Business has thrived," Mawat continued unperturbed, "But I can see this Imperial 'peace' being terribly disruptive. Therefore," He turned to look at Obs, "I'm agreeing to this partnership, and will supply your armies with as many blasters as Obs and the ORCS can supply and smuggle past the Imperial blockade, using our drop points as a funnel."

There was scattered applause from the war room as he stepped to the side, taking his seat amongst the leaders of the rebellion. Gradually, the noise died down and the delegates took their seats. All except Nield, who stood a furious look on his face and a dangerous glint in his eye.

"Nield?" Semreh said warningly. He didn't move.

"Nield!"

Semreh barked the last command, using the Force to amplify his voice. Nield jerked, as though surprised by his actions, and quickly sat back down.

"Now, I think we all know why we're all here, so there's no point in beating around the bush." Semreh stood up, addressing the circle of leaders in the war room. "We are all here to fight the Empire. Whether it's corruption, revenge, or justice, we all desire for the Empire to pay for its crimes."

He nodded at each of the leaders in turn, greeting them with open palms.

"Former Confederates, Republic Loyalists, even criminals…we all have a vested interest in fighting the Empire. And so, I think it is time we made our presence known."

"Why?" One of the leaders, a Nemoidian, asked. "The remnants of the Trade Federation have been disbanded. We tried to make a stand, and got slaughtered. My force joined Customs Vizier Marath Vooro, and made no difference. All that happened was a loss of materiel better spent elsewhere. How do we know this will not have the same result?"

"Because we are going to win this time." Elena snapped at the Nemoidian angrily, but Halber raised a hand to silence her before motioning for the Nemoidian admiral to continue.

But the admiral said nothing, simply drawing a small data disk from his pocket and inserting it into the holoprojector in the center of the room. The face of a nemoidian, indistinct but with the usual expensive robes, rose up and seemed to survey the audience.

_Where is Gunray? Where is Haako? A third-tier flunky has no right to negotiate on the Trade Federation's behalf. We have our battleships. We have our droids. If Palpatine wants our wealth, let him come and take it."_

"This was the last transmission Marath Vooro sent to the Trade Federation fleet before attempting to rally resistance." The Nemoidian admiral withdrew the datapad, placing it back into the pocket of his robes. "The Empire placed a minor offical as viceroy of the federation after we lost contact with the Seperatist Council, and they used him to sign over the Trade Federation to the Empire. Vooro resisted. He's dead." The nemoidian gave an uncharacteristic shrug. "Maybe it's the cowardly nemoidian in me, but I wish to avoid that fate."

"And why should we waste our forces in a pitched battle against the Empire's fleets?" A tall Muun asked from where he had seated his slim, elegant body. "War is like banking; you attempt to get pay off greater than your investments. I fought the Republic, and the Jedi never understood this. They and their morals were more a handicap than anything else."

"Says the Muun who had to have his ass dragged out of prison by my commandos." Sami snapped.

"The fact remains." The Muun smiled at the small group of padawans. "We came here believing that Bren, the legendary Grey Ghost, was rallying the Confederacy. Instead, we just get more Jedi children posturing with lightsabers."

Silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional uneasy rustling from the occupants.

"Then, I believe we can certainly come to an agreement." Semreh offered finally, looking at the Muun. "You are Pors Tonith, are you not?"

"I am." The Muun admiral admitted.

"The same Pors Tonith who captured Praesitlyn?" Another man, a massive red haired human male wearing a double breasted military jacket devoid of any decoration. But he held himself like a leader.

"Quite. Is this conversation going anywhere?"

The red haired man glowered at the Muun.

"I fought you there. My name's Zozridor Slayke you kriffing-"

"Enough." Semreh spoke calmly, almost quietly. But the Force enhanced his voice, putting authority behind it. Slayke stopped mid word, and Tonith blanched violently.

Halber stepped forward, raising his hands between the two men. "This is a meeting of allies, not enemies. Whatever your previous…disagreements, you will fight together, or not at all. Understood?"

The two men glared at each other, but each backed down, each retaking their seats.

"This bickering is pointless." Semreh growled. "We either fight together, or scatter, allowing ourselves to picked off one at a time." He glanced at the Separatist leaders. "I understand why many of you are reluctant to accept a young padawans leadership. Therefore, we won't. Instead, I propose that Bren take overall command of this force."

There were murmurs of approval and surprise at this statement. Semreh even saw Elena and Scout looking shocked out of the corner of his eyes. Halber looked lack he was about to say something, but snapped his moths shut and nodded at the last second.

"The Grey Ghost's exploits were legend amongst Separatist troops." A yellow faced Kooivar claimed excitedly. "Our fusiliers have even fought alongside the commander before."

"Fine soldiers." Bren complimented with a nod. "And I thank you for this Semreh, but I'm a ground commander. I can hardly coordinate a fleet. Why don't-"

He stopped as Sonya's elbow jerked out, striking him in the rib.

"What Bren means is that he would be happy to accept this position."

Bren blinked stupidly. "I did?"

"You can always designate someone else to command the fleet." She murmured to him as applause began to spread about the room. "So shut up and smile." Sonya plastered a grin across her face and patted her broad shouldered commander on the shoulder.

Bren complied warily, much to the relief of Semreh. Bren's legendary status amongst the Separatist, along with their desperate need for protection, would cement their loyalty, while the presence of Jedi would keep Republic Loyalists welded to the cause. Still, not everyone would be convinced so easily.

"I still don't enjoy the idea of fighting a running battle with any Imperial fleet." The nemoidian stubbornly maintained. "Our ships were state of the art during the Clone Wars, but the Empire has the time and resources to field the most technologically advanced forces imaginable."

"Which is why we won't rely on technology." Scout interjected, stepping forward. She looked nervous addressing the room of rebels, but this whole crusade had been her idea originally. Semreh had insisted she say something.

"Look at the Kilmaulsi." She said, waving a hand at the squadron of chieftains to her left. "They've never been conquered by any outside force, and for good reason. They know the terrain of their lands, and fight with skill unmatched by any technology." Scout leaned slightly on a bench, one hand resting at her hip on the hilt of her lightsaber. "We'll do the same."

"We also possess another advantage." Fless stood up now, bringing up a map of the known galaxy on the holoprojector. "Despite its size, the new Imperial armed forces still lack the strength to be everywhere at once in force. Rebellions keep cropping up, and every time the Emperor sends less, and less to fight them."

"And we can field as many as over a million men here on Melida/Daan alone." Nield pointed out. "Whatever task force the Emperor sends, surely we can at least give a good accounting over ourselves."

More murmurs of agreement from the delegates. But still, the nemoidian commander seemed wary, as if he was frowning on principle more than anything now. And he wasn't the only one. Pors Tonith was also frowning, though his seemed to do more with the Slayke character who was wringing his hands as if strangling the Muun.

Yet, this fragile alliance would have to do.

"I propose that we take a three day recess." Semreh announced, looking at Nield meaningfully. "That way, we may all discuss what we've learned from each other, as well as contact our home worlds and forces to discuss our options."

"I agree." Nield offered his support, standing to address the congregation. "All in favor?"

Half of the room seemed to stand immediately, anxious to get away from the crammed war room. Then, gradually, another quarter of the room seemed to grudgingly get to its feet.

"Very well."

* * *

Minutes later, Nield caught up to Semreh.

"I've had the Chasers put tails on them all. Anyone without a ship for quarters has been kept within the base's barracks structures." The president tilted his head, looking at the Jedi padawan sideways. "Now, you're going to answer a few of my questions."

"I am?"

"Yes." Nield crossed his arms, a cool look pulling over his face. "Why did you contact Wehutti?"

Semreh shrugged. "We needed the guns-"

"And you thought that guns were worth bringing a man who threatened the very stability of this government into the mix? Are you mad!?"

"No more so than any Jedi." Semreh grinned, but it faded as he saw Nields face. A combination of supreme sadness and anger had overtaken it.

"Come with me Semreh." He ordered, turning and leading the way towards one of the entrances. "There's something you need to see."

* * *

Fless hurried through the hallways, his rumpled suit and quick gait in stark contrast to that of the massive and clean cut Sten. Yet, they were both of the same mind. Neither of them had ever seen Sami that upset. And she'd certainly never lost her cool in such a delicate situation.

The soon found themselves in the Ranger quarters. A few of the passing soldiers gave the trespassing Shield Chasers weird looks, but none showed outright hostility until they found themselves in front of Sami's personal quarters.

"Let us in." Fless ordered the pair of Rangers guarding the door. The two sneered, but stopped as Sten stepped forward. He said nothing, just staring at the two until the quietly slipped away. Sten opened the door with a hiss, and Fless rushed inside.

Sami was there all right. Fless realized that approximately four seconds after a boot struck him hard in the chest.

"Don't you spooks ever knock?" Sami demanded. She was still in her field uniform from the meeting, but had stripped it of most of the weapons she normally carried.

"Just came to check on you is all?" Fless offered, covering his face as she raised another fist. "You don't normally blow up like that."

"I also don't normally see my aunt's murderer like that." She spat angrily. "How could Nield have pardoned the bastard like that, and then helped!?"

"Well, Nield may have not known a lot about it." Fless stated vaguely. "It was, after all, on a need to know basis."

Sami simply stared. "You did this!?"

"Well, not so much me as Daichi." Fless winked slyly at her. "But, yes, it was partially my idea."

"The Rangers may be satisfied with slugthrowers," Sten said in his deep, calming voice, "But the Shield Chasers aren't. We knew we would need criminal connections for a time like this."

"So you turned to the man who-" She couldn't finish, the sick words sticking to her throat. "Get out."

Sten didn't move for a few moments. Fless on the other hand bolted to his feet and began pulling his massive friend towards the door. Sten began to follow, but stopped for a moment.

"We're all learning to work with those we hate Sami." He said. "Do the same, or leave."

* * *

C-41 had leaned back against the wall, his armor clattering slightly as he took it off. Across from him, sitting on the opposite bunk, CTA-132 stared at him intently. After a few minutes of awkward silence, C-41 sighed and asked, "What?"

CTA-132 pulled his legs up, squatting like a bird of prey on his bunk.

"You're old." He stated simply, staring at C-41's rapidly graying hair.

"Noted. Duly." C-41 sighed before looking back up at the assassin. "I'm guessing you want to know why I'm not dead?"

CTA-132 nodded. "We were engineered to live about twenty years, with the last five of our years essentially being a mass of one deadly disease after another. When we turn forty or so biologically, we're supposed to start feeling the stress. Yet…" CTA-132 looked him up and down and shrugged.

"You look about thirty or forty, but you still fight well. Why?"

"Because, I'm different from most clones." C-41 raised his right arm and pulled back his sleeve, revealing a black 41 tattooed into his arm. "You see, before the Kaminoans began cranking out soldiers, they needed a template. Oh sure, they had Jango Fett's template, but they needed to modify it to make us more obedient. For that, they needed to change the genetic sequence and then produce their clone army from that."

CTA-132, for the first time in his life, looked astonished.

"They went through forty failed products before they made one with the correct combination of obedience and creativity. Me."

More silence. Then CTA-132 chuckled darkly.

"So, you're the first of the cannon fodder ever made eh?" He shook his head. "So, why don't you age quickly?"

"The aging gene is easier to manipulate than those relating to obedience. Once they had me, they simply needed to use my modified genes to clone more soldiers, and plant the genes for diseases like cancer. The only reason I'm still alive, is because I was the first." C-41 shrugged. "After they had my genes, I guess they just put me into circulation with the rest of the clones. I was forgotten. A number. But I am different."

"Really? How so?" CTA-132 sneered.

"Unlike you or any other clone, I saw this war through from beginning to end…and I will have much longer to live with what I've done."

CTA-132 bit back a response. C-41 was right. CTA-132 may have been amoral, ruthless, and cruel…but even he would never have desired to live much longer after his partners died. He knew that now...

* * *

Nield sat in the rear of the landspeeder with Semreh, silently staring out the window. Semreh, for his part, accepted the awkward silence well, using the chance for some private meditation. He watched the countryside rush by them, gradually turning to city and, finally, becoming a small, yet clean, side street.

They continued along this street until, finally, coming to a strange section of the city. It was a massive square, easily a two football fields in any direction. The buildings around it were clearly abandoned, as was the street. However, there was one building, amongst the slums, that was clearly well maintained and occupied.

It was a tall, steepled building. At least four stories, and made of a combination of wood and thick stone. It was virtually unadorned save for the white Japor ivory wood door.

"Here we are." Nield said, barely waiting for the speeder to stop before opening the door. A pair of Shield Chasers rushed to follow him, with Semreh bringing up the rear a leisurely pace.

The Chasers opened the doors for their president, standing guard while Nield and Semreh entered. Semreh, who had expected some great treasure or hall, was surprised to see only a few rows of benches and cots laid in careful rows along the floor. Their occupants largely ignored their arrival, and continued sleeping and going about their daily business.

"What is this place?" Semreh asked, confused.

"This is a memorial to a very special person." Though Nield kept his voice low and controlled, Semreh could feel the emotion coming off him in great waves of agony. He looked around. It was a simple place, like a church or a temple, but made with carved wood instead of the usual cold stone. But it wasn't just wood. The intricately carved and cut from its roots, the wood felt, for lack of a better word, alive in the Force.

"Who?" He asked simply, unable to say more in his awe.

"Cerasi." Nield looked terrified, as if he was confronting some demon he'd buried long ago. "My old…friend. She fought with us during the civil war, and it was her who brought peace to us."

Semreh knew little about the history of the civil war. He remembered that there were three sides in the war; the Melida, the Daan, and the Young. The Young were made up of children from both sides that wished the fighting to stop. They surprised both sides by stealing what few weapons they had in their depleted stockpiles, and forced a resolution.

"At the time, Cerasi and I were the leaders. When Obi-Wan joined us, we finally managed to force both the Melida and Daan to give up the fighting."

"Obi-Wan?" Semreh asked in shock. "The Jedi were involved?"

"He left the order to help us." Nield looked shamefaced; the whole story was tearing him up inside. "He sacrificed his place in the order and risked the life of a fellow Jedi in order to help us end the fighting. He stayed behind when his Master left."

Semreh was shocked. He, nor any other padawan he knew, had ever heard this story.

"What happened?"

"The Young quickly divided. We just couldn't handle all the problems the planet had at the time. It wasn't long before the elders, Melida and Daan, began fighting against us. It spiraled out of control. Then, something terrible happened."

Semreh merely waited, knowing it would be foolish to interrupt.

"The Elders had gathered here, in this square, to protest us. They'd acquired contraband weapons, and I and my security forces hurried to disperse them. Neither of us was willing to back down, but nobody wanted to start the bloodshed. Cerasi heard what was happening and arrived on the scene, using a tunnel exit that still lies beneath this memorial. She leapt up and ran across the square, shouting for us to stop."

Nield stopped here, unable to finish for a moment. He jerked his head away from Semreh and stared at the dark wood of the church wall.

"A sniper gunned her down." Nield finally blurted out. "That sniper was one of Mawat's lieutenants, and he even distributed weapons to both sides in an attempt to encourage violence. All to gain power."

"So why not execute him?" Semreh asked. He may have been a Jedi, but he was no fool.

"I exiled him to the countryside. I hoped he'd find his own redemption out there…But I may have been wrong."

"Or you may have been right." Semreh shot back. "Either way, it doesn't matter. We need his smuggling contacts to get guns to arm your troops to fight the Empire…one necessary evil to fight another."

Nield paused. "Cerasi believed in forgiveness. When we built this memorial to her, we declared it a sanctuary, a place where no person, criminal or otherwise, can be harmed. It's a symbol for everything good about our people…but not even here, amongst a symbol for everything I once loved, can I forgive Mawat."

"Then don't." Semreh pursued doggedly. "Just forget. Revenge and anger can come later…but for now, let the man work."

Nield, his shoulders sagged, his blond hair shadowing his eyes, turned. "You're right of course. This whole alliance of yours is based on forgetting that our allies were once our enemies."

And Semreh, in a moment of sudden realization that burst from his chest like a supernova, realized their alliance would never succeed.


	75. Lies

_**A little shorter, but it's setting up the next chapter. Please enjoy!**_

Semreh exited the church alongside Nield and his guards, his drab civilian disguise drawing less attention than Nield's pure white suit. As they entered the landspeeder, Semreh thought about his sudden realization that the Jedi Alliance, built under a bedrock of animosity, was sure to fail. Quietly, Semreh strategized, forming a web of action and counteractions in his head.

As they drove, he used his old meditation technique, focusing his mind on the point behind his eyes until his mind seemed to drift away. There, at the center of the universe, he saw the world like a chess or dejerk board. The pawns, the bishops, and the royalty. He considered himself a bishop only. Bren, Nield, and the rest of the planetary leaders were easily the most important.

Privately, he also put Tara among these important pieces. Though he attempted to push emotion outside of his planning, Semreh failed every time he thought about her blue eyes, long blond hair-

"_Stop it!"_ He intruded angrily on his own thoughts. "_A Jedi forgoes attachments for just these reasons."_

Still, Semreh could imagine himself, if he needed to, sacrificing Elena. She was a soldier like him, and had accepted death like him. Semreh would certainly sacrifice himself, but Halber seemed too…just too good to be used as a pawn like that. The same could be said for Scout. But Tara…No matter how Semreh tried to kill that feeling, he could not.

Shaking the thought away, Semreh turned to Nield in the landspeeder.

"I have a plan that I would like to execute. And if we do it right, we may just solidify this alliance."

Nield nodded. "I figured. Will I like it?"

He shook his head. "No way."

* * *

Scout somersaulted backwards, narrowly avoiding a trip of knives that thudded into a neat line in front of her. Landing on one knee, she grabbed handle of the nearest knife and drew three more from her belt. She crossed her arms, holding two in each hand between her knuckles, before hurling them towards the treeline in front of her.

There were four sharp metallic clangs from the tree tops as the four Kilmaulsi chieftains blocked the knives with a variety of weapons. One by one, they leapt down, each drawing their own weapons. Three held the curved swords, one of them wielding two at a time, while the last held a massive rounded shield and a long spear.

They charged, converging on him in a closing arc. Scout, rather than retreating, moved to counter the attack. The akimbo sword wielder brought one sword whistling down on her head, but Scout ducked, the Force and her own careful training telling her every one of their moves before they made them. Coming up from her duck, Scout pivoted right on her foot and slapped the hilt of the sword away with her right hand, and her left hand followed quickly to strike the warrior in his feathered stomach.

Scout's hands, deliberately toughened by her training to be able to strike durasteel without flinching, deflected off his abs like dinko flies. The Kilmaulsi snorted with laughter, but stopped as Scout grabbed its arm in the crook of her arm and braced her feet on the ankles of the massive chieftain. Behind her, the Force screamed warnings as the Chieftens companions closed in. Grunting with effort, grabbed the Kilmaulsi's shoulder with her free hand and swung herself up, and forward again, using her legs like a battering ram against his ankles. They did not break, but his talons were swept out from under him.

No longer grounded, he rose above Scout as she pulled him down to the ground, her back braced on the ground as the Kilmaulsi seemed to lay parallel above her for a few moments. Scout brought her knees up to her chest and kicked up at her opponent. Letting herself continue rolling backwards, she used the Chieftain's momentum to throw him like a missile backwards towards his companions.

"Ha!" Scout exclaimed in triumph. She jumped from her back straight to her feet, but was shocked when she turned to see a the shield and spear warrior sprinting towards her, jumping like…well, like a bird towards her. He landed several good meters from his start point and brought his shield forward like a club.

Scout caught the shield full in the chest and was hurled back against the dirt. She let herself roll a few feet before spinning about and sliding to her feet. But the warrior was on her again with the spear, keeping her at bay with the shield. Behind him, the rest of the warriors were getting up from their brief stun.

Scout backed away, letting the Kilmaulsi's thrusts become longer and less controlled, before finally catching the weapon on the shaft and, drawing her belt knife, hacking the tip off. Strong Kilmaulsi wood did not break on the first slash though, and the warrior pulled backwards with his spear and launched Scout like a catapult. But she held on and, on the third desperate slash, broke the shaft off. Now she flew, like a missile, towards the recovering chieftains.

Scout let herself fall, hitting them like a human sledgehammer. All four of them went down. Scout rolled away, dragging one of the stunned Kilmaulsi back. The spearman was on her again, using his shattered weapon as a crude spearhead. But he could not thrust without striking his comrade. Scout on the other hand was under no such restrictions. She lashed out with her spear and feet, keeping her opponent off balance, but he was joined by his dazed, but deadly comrades. Scout, realizing she was surrounded, did the only thing she could. She drew the spearhead up to her hostage's neck threateningly.

The 'birds' just laughed, and a fourth voice joined in.

"A Kilmaulsi would not hesitate to strike down an ally to kill an enemy." Master Yasuo called from his perch from a different tree. Scout sighed, released her captive, and dusted robes off as she got to her feet.

"So what? I'd just die?"

"If you don't get stronger yes." The four armed alien master landed with a dull thud besides them. He spoke a few words to the Chieftains, who nodded and quickly disappeared into the forest. Located near the Chaser base, Yasuo had gotten permission from the Chasers to use it as a training ground.

"Semreh wants to see you." Yasuo stated simply when Scout didn't answer.

"So this wasn't just a surprise inspection?" Scout grinned wryly. She gathered up her knives and tools, straightening her tunic.

"He said it's urgent, and your other two Jedi comrades are already there." Yasuo turned his back before disappearing into the forest with a flicker. "I would hurry." His voice called from the darkness.

Scout sighed. No doubt her suddenly elusive Master had returned to the Kilmaulsi camp hidden amongst the treetops. Still, it'd be nice if he could stick around a little more. Swallowing her distaste and placing her robes back around her shoulders, she hurried back to base.

* * *

Halber had always been a bit uncomfortable with war. He, alongside Elena and Semreh, had fought constantly against the Separatists over the years, but he never embraced the war quite as much as them. Now, standing in a war room with two Jedi, one rogue Force-user, and a cadre of swoop gang members; he wondered just how far he'd fallen.

The door to the war room hissed open, and in walked Scout looking sweaty and exhausted, but otherwise unharmed.

"All right guys, what's going on?"

"Ah, the final piece of the puzzle." Scout smoothed his hair back, looking worried but smiling nervously.

"We're hammering out some of the final details of our trade deal with ORCS." Elena explained. Her arms were crossed, and her usual fierce face looked particularly irritated and furious today. "But they're being a bunch of karking, scud sucking, as-"

"Easy Elena." Halber placed a massive hand on her shoulder. She stopped, but her features didn't soften.

"They want Jedi to come and help them set up the arms deal." Mawat spat derisively. "It makes sense I guess. They want to see who'll be leading this rebellion they're investing in."

"So, we need to Jedi to head to Vorzyd V…You in?"

Scout looked up, startled. "You want me to negotiate and arms deal?"

He shrugged, glancing at Halber. "Well, I'm sending Halber to take care of that. Sending you just feels…right somehow." He shook his head, as if disgusted with himself. "Maybe it's just me or the Force, but sending you seems like a good idea."

Even Elena looked at Semreh incredulously. Halber had deep faith in the Force, and had always felt it's ebs and flows guided his actions. But Semreh had never had that deep a connection in his opinion, and had certainly never talked about the Force 'guiding his actions'. To hear him talking about it now was startling.

Scout though, who had not known Semreh as long, simply nodded, if reluctantly.

"Fine by me. We should leave soon though."

"We have a smuggler ship waiting on the wings to leave." Mawat informed them. "We can leave whenever."

"Then now is as good as ever." Habler announced, stealing a glance at Semreh. What game was his old friend playing? "Shall we leave?"

"Yes." Mawat turned, leading his group of gangsters and criminals from the room. Scout and Halber, two Jedi who would have once greeted them with stun cuffs, followed nervously. As the door slid shut, Halber stole one last glance, and saw Semreh deep in conversation with Elena.

* * *

After the meeting, Semreh hurried to his quarters and simply collapsed on his cot. Elena had questioned him heavily for the past half hour. Out of all of them, they probably understood each other the best, and Elena had been the first to confront him.

"In all your life, you've never flown by the seat of your tunic!" She'd snapped at him angrily. "We need a leader who's gonna think and strategize, not send people off on guts and feelings."

But Semreh had merely ignored her. She knew as well as he that he'd had other reasons for sending Scout and Semreh. In the back of his mind, he still remembered her threat aboard the _Acclamator_ as they'd fled the Empire.

"_If we sink to their level, how does that make us any better?" If you do something like that again Semreh, I will stop you." _

Semreh did not fear Scout, but she was too naive about war. She could not be here to interfere.

"You did not actually sense anything, did you." Semreh looked up at Jolon, who had apparently glided silently into the room. "After all, I thought I taught you that the Force is merely energy. It is hardly some benevolent form of god."

He sighed. "I know, I know. Still…" Semreh's mind drifted back to his vision. The three figures in armor facing the lone dark shadow on the plain.

"So, why did you lie?"

"I needed an excuse to send Halber and Scout away. Neither of them will approve of the next few day's activities."

"Ah, some underhanded cunning." Jolon tilted his head thoughtfully. "I can certainly understand that. But what-" he stopped midsentence. "No, I'd rather not know."

Semreh felt old…much older than when he'd woke up.

"Yes, you would."

* * *

That night was the eve of revolution. Of war. After that day, few of their lives would change. For Semreh, it was just another war. For Bolt, another job. For Elena, another fight. For Bren, another cause. Sonya saw only another puzzle to be solved, while Nield viewed it all as another fight for freedom. They all had done this before.

The galaxy would not even shudder from this eve, because to it, this is just another war. Another pointless conflict. The Empire, with thousands of worlds to subjugate at every moment, would not even gasp in surprise. On this eve, little would change.

But that's because this is not the climax. The climax will come later, after blood and sweat and soul had been sacrificed. The climax will not be this eve, because the climax will make the Empire gasp. The climax will make the galaxy writhe. And in the end, the climax will change everything.


	76. Coup

Tara and Jolon entered one of the many sewer exits favored by the Chasers, following its winding passages with a careful eye and the Force's guidance. It was damp, dark, and cold…typical.

"How come these secret agent types never picked beaches for their bases?" Tara grumbled to Jolon. The old man smiled in the dark. Tara was now essentially his apprentice through and through. Semreh too for that matter, but he spent more time plotting with the higher ups than training anymore.

Tara on the other hand had seemed to explode into her training. Her training by digging tunnels had proved extraordinarily useful, and by now, her control over the Force was so Taght that she could pick up a pebble and send it whizzing like a bullet through a stormtroopers eye socket.

"Well, this looks like as good a spot as any." Jolon commented, turning around. Tara surveyed the room quickly. They were in a small alcove, a merely widened tunnel with no particular differences from the rest of the sewers.

"What is it?" Tara asked, suspicion jumping up her throat. But Jolon simply smiled, producing from his long coat a simple rectangular tool box.

"I want you to create your own lightsaber." Jolon stated simply, dropping the toll box on a low hanging pipe.

"Why?" Jolon had spent months teaching Tara to control her considerable power. With her control over telekinesis, she could disable people with a twitch of her finger.

"Aside from the symbolism?" The old man smiled. "There may be times where your power in the Force will not be enough. When that time comes, you'll be glad to have one."

Tara looked at the tools within the box. Basic stuff and plenty of it.

"Oh, and one more thing apprentice." Jolon turned, smiling. "Try and make it unique. Something that compliments your unique talents."

Tara nodded distantly, still picking through the various components. Jolon shook his head silently as he hurried away. She was no mechanic, but the Force would guide her. Of that, he was sure.

* * *

Elsewhere in sewers, far away beneath the city Zehava, Semreh stood ankle deep in water, the hood of his robes shadowing his face. He told himself that it was to keep the dripping water out of his eyes. Yet, in his heart of hearts, he knew the real reason. This night would be one of shame for him.

"Our orders are clear." Fless announced, standing with twenty other Chasers in the dank pipes.

They were the sum of the Chasers best. Unlike the recalled Chasers and new recruits that had been called into service since the beginning of their shadow war against the Empire, these men were the perfect combination of experience and youth. They carried the standard light weaponry of the Chasers, but each stood with a lithe grace.

Fless continued. "We are to assist you in preserving Melida/Daan's ability to fight the Empire. This includes a situation where the Melida/Daan government itself is a hindrance to Melida/Daan independence."

"Then we are agreed." Semreh smiled mirthlessly. "We all know what to do then?"

Fless, his usual good natured smile gone, nodded again. "My men have their assignments, as do our agents abroad."

"President Nield is under guard in the Council Capital Building, where he will be most effective." Sten coughed delicately. "Daichi is there with three other Chasers."

"And the Ranger Chasers?"

"Also awaiting our orders."

Quiet. The calm before the storm. Then…

"Go."

* * *

Councilman Sheen, known for being Nield's most Stalwart opponent, was enjoying the sight of the Melida/Daan sky as it swung from twilight to blackness. He rubbed his hands through his hair, leaning forward on the railing to the balcony of his apartment. Sheen was loyal to Melida/Daan and, more importantly, peace. Nield's warmongering only threatened the stability peace had made possible, and Sheen would not sacrifice that for anything.

Looking over the wilderness his balcony overlooked, Sheen felt a warming sensation for his home planet.

Still, politics were gone from his mind for now. For now, there was only the setting sun and a stiff drink. And the red haired Chaser hanging unseen from the balcony below. With a swift movement, Fless reached up, grabbing a handful of Sheen's shirt and smoothly pulling the Councilman from his perch. The man barely managed to gasp before falling the forty feet to the deserted ground below, his body breaking on the rocky ground.

* * *

Sten was a hard man to hide. His massive build, almost wookieish, meant that moving about in cockpits next to impossible. However, he was even harder to hide from. And when he found them, they tended to do one of two things; die or scream. Sten specialized in the latter.

But today was a time for the former. Sten genuinely valued life. He hated killing. His training had made it second nature, but that did not change his opinions later.

And so, as Sten hurried down the street with two other Chasers at his back, he mentally walled his mind off for what would come.

They soon found themselves in front of a nearby restaurant, where Councilman Alem had seated himself alongside two other Councilmen Sten knew to be on the payroll of the Empire. Alem himself was an elderly man who had served his country well for years.

"_A casualty of war_." Sten thought, raising his pistol alongside the rest of his Chasers. They fired, the glass in front of them shattering into pieces. The National Army Guards who were guarding them fell, blood flowing from several wounds each. The Councilmen, stunned into inaction, fell next, their bodies thrown from their chairs as the Chasers opened fire.

* * *

On Coruscant, far from the gruesome pageant on Melida/Daan, the Senator of Melida/Daan was speaking before one of his assistants, practicing a speech for the next day's session of negotiations in the Senate.

"Thank you Deeran." Senator Aklain complimented his Chaser guard, who had just arrived with a soft drink for him and his young assistant. The Chaser nodded and stepped away quickly, his comlink suddenly beeping steadily.

"Now, the trade manifests and agreements of the now dissolved Trade Federation belong to the Outer Rime planets who were formally abused by said-" He stopped midsentence as a clicking noise caught his ear from behind. His assistant was apparently horrified of something behind him judging from her face.

He turned just in time to see his Chaser bodyguard turning his weapon on her, firing once. He heard her fell with a muffled yell.

"_Why hasn't he shot me?"_ He thought stupidly, before looking down. He then realized that clicking noise was not a weapon cocking, but a silenced weapon firing. The Senator collapsed after that, very surely dead.

* * *

Back on the main street of Zehava, the Ranger Chasers were moving quickly through the streets. They circumvented the National Army barracks, going straight for the jugular of the government; the Council Capital Building.

They evaded patrolling squads and civilians by using the back alleys and the sewers. It was not long before nearly a hundred Ranger Chasers arrived at the massive steel building. It was not pretty, but was solidly built to resist attack. The Chasers therefore moved with desperate speed.

They seemed to appear from nowhere on the steps, ordering the isolated Army units to stand down before they could organize resistance. The shock of seeing the cowled and hooded Chaser Rangers appearing in their armored suits broke any signs of resistance. They were rounded up and detained, their weapons stacked neatly in front of the building while the Rangers looked on dispassionately.

* * *

Semreh followed Nield through the capital buildings bland hallways, his hood drawn as he strode besides the man. Behind them, a column of Chasers followed silently, their weapons holstered but ready. They continued, unworried about the cameras and alarms scattered about the rooms. After all, the Chasers had built the government's entire security system from the ground up.

They came to the Council Chambers, where an entire squad of National Army troopers were prepared, weapons trained on the entrance. The commander of the squad stepped forward, ordering them to halt.

"No, stand aside, or you and your men will die." Semreh murmured quietly, his voice charged with Force energy.

The Commander looked confused for a moment, as if arguing with himself. "I-…I can'-"

Semreh didn't bother speaking again or making threatening moves. No ridiculous hand wave for him. He simply let Force energy flow out of him in a Taghtly controlled wave, crushing the man's resistance.

"Stand aside men." The Commander spoke in a bland tone. The men hesitated, but lowered their weapons, letting Nield and his Chasers pass, and greet the remnants of the Council of Melida/Daan.

* * *

The coup came quickly. Quietly. Nobody in Melida/Daan would have any idea what had happened until the next morning, when word spread that over half of the Council was suddenly dead. The Council could have, at any moment, ordered the couple thousand strong National Army to move against the traitors. But the Council was gone, either detained or dead in the streets.

Like I said, it isn't the climax. Sorta and anti-climax when looked back on. In one swift night, the Council that had provided the backbone for administration and order since the end of the civil war was decapitated, the survivors prisoners in their own government building. Even Roenni, Nield's closest friend and ally on the Council, was held at gun point under Chaser guard.

By the time word got out the next day, Nield was ready. Across the holonet, he broadcast a message to the planet, as the last hero of the Melida/Daan War.

"Last night, in a surprise act of aggression, Imperial covert forces attacked and assassinated the majority of our Council. Those who remain have gone into hiding and so, it is with a heavy heart that I ask for the people of Melida/Daan's support in this trying time."

Across the world, the people of the small villages, the massive cities, listened to their president. In the factories and the fields, they listened to whatever holonet projectors they could scrape together.

"Therefore, I am calling for an immediate mobilization of the Militia. I ask all current Melida/Daan Militiamen to report to their local Militia commanders, and for any able bodied Melida/Daan to volunteer for the Militia." Nield paused, simply staring into the camera of the projector for a moment. "The Empire is vast and powerful…but we fought too hard for our peace to surrender it to tyranny now."

"I thank you for your time, and join you in mourning for our fallen leaders, and looking forward to our revenge."

With that, Nield stepped away and the broadcast ended.

* * *

Semreh stood with Nield, looking through the window of his office towards the night sky, where the vague shapes of the Imperial Star Destroyers stood vigil over Melida/Daan. They hung like daggers in the sky, weapons ready to hammer down on top of them. Neither of them spoke, waiting. Whatever happened next, the Jedi had counter attacked. It was the Empire's turn now...

* * *

Scout felt the _Limping Lady _jerk under her feet as its landing struts hit the landing pad. She fell forward slightly, having to grab desperately at the durasteel wall of the cockpit to stay upright.

"I told you to buckle up." Tag reminded her smugly, just loud enough for her to hear. Besides her, Halber had endured the rocky landing without the slightest rustle despite his lack of strap and seat.

"Whatever." Scout growled, straightening her tunic indignantly. "Let's just go get this meeting started."

Her fellow Jedi nodded, leading the way through the bulkheads of the ship. Tag sighed, grabbing a padded armored jacket as he followed alongside Scout.

"The ORCS representatives shouldn't give us too much trouble. We've been doing business with them for years, and this deal is amazingly lucrative for them."

"And one sided." She pointed out.

Tag merely nodded. "That too." He paused for a second in the main storage area of the freighter, grabbing a sawed off scatter gun. The weapon was old and clearly custom made, with a polished wooden handle and matte black barrel. The weapon itself was based off an older design, firing a powerful slug that would explode mid flight into a dozen little durasteel pellets.

"Any reason you think you'll need that? And how are you going to sneak it into the meeting?"

The Devaronian grinned, fingering one of his horns thoughtfully. "It's sawed off, so it should be small enough. Here," he proffered the weapon handle first, "Get a feel for it."

Scout took the weapon, hefting it gingerly. "It's heavy." She commented nervously. As a Jedi, she'd rarely fired a blaster, let alone a slugthrower like a scattergun.

"That firing it one handed myth is a load of Neimoidian _mopak_." He took the weapon back, loading a slug into it from behind. "We call them wrist snappers cuz every once in a while some idiot will try to fire it one handed and break their wrist. Still, it's easy to hide, and if you shoot something, it will go down."

Scout nodded, watching as he strapped the weapon to his thigh. They hurried after Halber, who was already at the bottom of the ramp, talking with a pair of officials and, to Scout's delight, Kalasaad Wotzu in the flesh.

"Prime Minister Wotzu!" Scout rushed to meet him, holding out her hand but instead being drawn into a great bear hug.

"Little Scout!" The big man smiled at her through his graying mustache. "It's been way to long."

He gestured at the Halber. "And I'm assuming you're the one sent to meet with members of ORCS?"

"Of course. I specialize in diplomatic relations."

"I hope so." Wotzu jerked a thumb over his shoulder to an expensive looking speeder behind him. "These guys are quite…intense."

Apparently so. The speeder was virtually surrounded by men with weapons either openly displayed or hidden on their person. Above them, three attack speeders were hovering, bristling with weapons.

"Well, I'd better get to it." Halber sighed, walking forward reluctantly. "Tag, Scout; let's get a move on."

Scout moved to join him, but halted as she felt Wotzu's hand on her shoulder.

"Actually," He stalled, for a moment, "I'd like to borrow Scout for a moment. There have been some small…developments."

"Developments?" Scout looked at Halber uncertainly, but the big Jedi nodded.

"Go on. We've got this."

Scout nodded, and turned as Wotzu's hand guided her towards his own personal speeder. Scout did not often get much feeling from the Force, but something in her gut told her this was important.


	77. Chapter 77 Invasion

_**Yes, I know it's been a while, but I'm proud to say that I've returned to this story. Some things regarding college, and the publishing of one of my works by a publishing company have kept me distracted, but It's good to be back. Please Read and Review.**_

"The situation on the surface has rapidly spun out of control Admiral." Admiral Forte looked at his colleague Amistad questioningly. The two men looked similar in their olive dyed uniforms, but their stance and facial features made their distaste for each other palpable.

"Why thank you Forte!" Amistad rubbed his temple irritably. "I hadn't realized that a coup could count for out of control."

"If you had retained control of the surface, I wouldn't have to be here." Forte snapped angrily. "Have you heard anything from the garrison?"

Amistad looked down determinedly at conference table. He'd overlooked the fact that the local stormtrooper garrison had been killed because, to be frank, he'd been more concerned that these stromtroopers never interfere with his own slaving operations. Now though, if his own intelligence was correct his trandoshan slavers were imprisoned, and the local garrison dead to the last man.

"How the admiral lost control is no longer relevant." Raam, wearing his full Inquisitor garb, rose from the conference table. "We must act quickly. These people have acted as traitors to our Emperor, and so must be dealt with swiftly and harshly."

"Well," Forte let a glare touch his eyes as he looked at Raam. The man was a warrior, not a general. "Unfortunately our ships are unable to even fire on the planet as long as they have the energy shields in place. We will need to locate and destroy each before we can even bring the firepower of the fleet to bear."

"How is of no consequence. We must simply act." Raam clenched his fist angrily about his lightsaber. "We will blanket the planet in fire, burning every city and settlement into glass. Melida/Daan will serve as an example for future rebellions."

At that, Admiral Forte bristled visibly. "Well, for those of us who remember little things like logistics and numbers, remember that our resources are limited until our requested reinforcements arrive. Not all of us want to die here."

Amistad gaped at Forte, shocked at his stupidity and blatant disrespect. He instinctively felt his cheek, where the Inquisitor's nail marks still gleamed red.

Remarkably, Raam did not explode with anger. He glared, but sat back down, his eyes never breaking away from Forte's.

"What do you suggest then Admiral?"

"For starters, I believe we don't need to control the entire planet. Concentrating our forces in Zehava should be enough."

"And what of the millions of militiamen forming in the countryside?" Amistad argued, glancing nervously at Raam.

"If we take Zehava, we can take their government and perhaps rescue whatever remains of our allies in the former Council." Forte stood, glaring back at Raam coolly. "In short, if we control Zehava, we control the planet."

Silence hung in the air as the three Imperial Commanders considered the plan.

"This strategy has merit." Raam conceded eventually. "I will take our contingent of stromtroopers. Four thousand troopers plus support should be enough to secure the city yes?"

"Overkill I think." Amistad sighed dramatically. "So, we land transports through the shield, and take Zehava in one swift movement. It seems too easy."

Raam, unperturbed, rose from the conference table, his robes whipping his ankles behind him.

"With the Force, such things are often too easy."

* * *

Semreh met Jolon in the Council building, flanked by a pair of Chasers.

"Well little Jedi." Jolon chuckled deeply. "I can see why you wouldn't want Scout and Saint Halber here to see this stunt."

Semreh ignored him, waiting for the old man to get to the point. He had things to do, and only a sense of loyalty kept him talking to Jolon.

"Well, I thought you should know that Tara has nearly completed her training with me. She'll be ready for your war."

Semreh nodded. "Thank you Jolon. And you? Will you fight?"

The old man hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "The Empire is cracking down on Force users of all kinds. My experiments in the Force would hardly be tolerated were they to succeed." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Besides, it would be interesting to see how these experiments acted in war situations."

"New techniques Jolon?"

"A few." Jolon smiled cryptically. "So, have you considered what to do with your army currently sitting outside the Melida/Daan system…which, I might add, has a couple Star Destroyers hanging between it and this planet?"

"I was on my way to deal with that particular problem now." Semreh explained, grinning cockily as he hurried down the hallway.

* * *

The leaders of the rebellion were…distressed, to say the least. The coup had caught everyone by surprise, including them. The sudden change in government and the numerous Chaser guards surrounding them made it clear how vulnerable their situation had become.

Semreh stood at the head of the guards, looking strangely benign besides them, his hands clasped behind him.

"Participation in this alliance is now mandatory." He explained simply, as if discussing the weather. "The Empire's attention has been drawn to Melida/Daan. The Star Destroyers above have tightened their security, and we can no doubt expect interference and Imperial reinforcements."

"You kriffing liar!" Zozridor Slayke slammed a massive fist onto the conference table, rising to his feet. "I fought for the Republic! Did you think I would abandon it now!"

"No, but it has become increasingly clear that certain elements of this alliance were wavering." Semreh glanced at Pors Tonith, fixing the Muun with an irritated glare. "Any acts of sedition or wavering will be dealt with harshly. Recall your fleets to Melida/Daan, or surrender your lives." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Your choice."

The leaders scowled, complained, and glared angrily at him and the Chasers, but none of them would do anything more. Semreh knew that. They'd survived this long, few would give that up now. And if any did, the Chasers would execute them.

So, the Confederacy leaders would give the activation codes to their droids, the Republic rebels would call their troops together and the individual planet leaders would summon their fleets to Melida/Daan. Semreh had welded together his army, forcing the leaders into a position where they needed to fight or die. And now, they'd choose which.

* * *

Tara breathed heavily, doubled over at the waist, her skinny body gasping for air. For a moment, she felt faint, her knees almost buckling, but steadied herself.

Straightening herself, she dusted off her shorts and t-shirt, pushing her blonde hair back from her right eye.

"Very nice." Jolon's voice came from behind her, appearing almost from nowhere. He stepped besides her, patting her on the shoulder. "I see you've finished your weapon."

Tara nodded, calling it back to her hand with a small wave before attaching the object to her belt. It was four pronged. It looked like an x or a plus sign, with four half foot long cylinders all meeting at a small core.

"And you took my advice on uniqueness. This weapon will compliment your abilities well."

"Thank you Master Jolon." Tara bowed her head, more from exhaustion than anything else. "I only hope I never have to use it."

"Spoken like a true Jedi." Jolon chuckled a moment before becoming serious again. "But you are not one. Your power is as much fueled by emotion as anything else. Understand?"

Tara, still breathing heavily, nodded. "Yes sir, I understand."

"Good." Jolon's expression softened back into an old grandpa's face. "Now, let's return to the Chaser base. Semreh asked me to retrieve you."

Tara's heart fluttered slightly and she smiled, exhaustion forgotten. "What's he want?" She asked hurriedly. "I haven't spoke to him since…the incident."

She avoided using the word coup. It just reminded her of his hand in ordering it.

"He's convinced the Empire is going to invade soon, and I personally agree." They walked through the wooded area towards the base. One would have thought it was a simple grandpa/granddaughter walk if not for the lightsabers they carried and the dagger like ships visible in the sky above them.

"They will not take this lightly, and until reinforcements can come from the militias and Lantern base, we'll need to hold power."

"Which means…" Tara led on nervously.

"We'll need every man and woman we can muster to hold Zehava and the Council. Semreh's readying the Chasers, but it's only a matter of time before-"

A sonic boom above them nearly shattered Tara's eardrums. She clapsed gloved hands to her ears, shouting silently. She see Jolon in front of her, apparently unaffected, as he whirled about and stared, his face falling. A rush of air shoved at Tara's back, and only a desperate grab from Jolon kept her standing.

Now, Tara could see what had caused it. A sleek transport had bolted above them, pulling up from a screaming dive during its reentry from space. As it darted away towards Zehava, Tara recognized Imperial markings on its sides.

"A rapid deployment ship." She heard Jolon say as her ears stopped ringing. "It's heading towards the capital."

Tara stumbled as Jolon broke away, sprinting towards the Chaser base.

"Come on!"

* * *

Semreh hurried from the room, surrounded by Chaser officers all shouting intelligence at him till it all blurred into nonsense.

"We can't hold a whole city with a handful of Chaser Rangers!" Sami protested, clothed in full battle gear, a carbine hanging from her side. "We don't have the man power."

"We still hold the Council." Daichi shot back. "As long as we control them, the National Army will remain disorganized and confused. Once the militias gather-"

"By the time the militias arrive we'll probably all be dead." Fless snarled. "We need to take hostages and by time."

"Or scatter." Sami nodded in agreement. "Either way, fighting it out with a whole battalion of stormtroopers is not an option."

Semreh listened to their yelling, reasoning, and pleas for either retreat or fight. The Empire had begun landing troops and heavy vehicles in Zehava. It was a clever decisive tactic. Semreh and the rest of the rebels had been relying on the Council's National Army being too occupied to stop both the Militias and the rest of the rebels to gather.

Instead, the Imperials were focusing on taking back the capital while its people were confused. By rescuing the Council, they could again have the Melida/Daan National Army hold the rest of the planet. The Army was small, but it was the only sizeable, well armed force on the planet.

Throughout the whole affair, Nield had been quiet. Perhaps the Imperial actions had finally brought to light his own hopeless situation. As president, he would be held responsible for Melida/Daan, and he would also bear the brunt of punishment.

"President Nield?" Daich turned to him. "Do you have orders?"

The man looked up, his face haggered and his normally white suit looked frayed as it hung off him loosely.

"Semreh's the Jedi." He finally said. "This is his party."

And for once, Semreh didn't have a plan. They were backed into a corner. They could not fight the Imperials, not when they possessed superior numbers, organization, and weapons. They could not run, as any attempt to flee would be blocked by Imperial ships and tanks now spreading throughout the city. Hostages would be only a minor annoyance for Imperial Commandos. They were trapped. They needed shelter...

Then, something Nield said caught in his mind's eye.

"Nield," Semreh said with a small grin, "How far away was that church?"

* * *

Raam stood, his back braced against the wall of the Council Chambers, a trio of Imperial Commandos at his back. Outside, the stormtroopers were mopping up the remnants of the Ranger Chasers who had defended the building. The scattered pings of blasterfire still sounded occasionally as any wounded were executed.

"_Thus die all traitors_." He thought, edging along the wall. The massive door to his front was barred shut, no doubt guarded on the inside. He could sense a few life forms inside. Frightened life forms.

He activated his lightsaber, letting the blood red light hum near his face, its heat singing the hair across his face. By the Force, he loved the way that weapon sang when he swung it. To think others had tried to take it away from him…

With a deicisive step forward, Raam thrust the energy sword through the door, carving a man sized circle into the door and, with a burst of Force energy, blowing them in.

Raam stormed inside, his troopers on his heels. Shouts of confirmation sounded off as the troopers cleared the room. But nobody was there. Just the remainder of the Melida/Daan Council, tied painfully to each other in the center of the room.

"Untie them." Raam ordered, already reaching out in the Force for his adversaries. There were none. The Jedi were gone. Sighing heavily, he returned to the Council men and women.

"I am Inquisitor Raam of the Empire. You are now all in Imperial custody until the nature of your kidnapping can be established."

"It was the president." One shallow faced man yelped as the troopers released him. "He and his Chasers-"

"I did not dress you." Raam immediately dismissed the man as a simple underling, or an idiot. Nobody else would freely offer information like that. He refused to talk to either.

Raam surveyed the faces until he found one that looked less cowed than the others. A young woman, with dark brown hair and a youthful face.

"You." He said, pointing at her. "What happened?"

The woman swallowed slightly, but met his eyes. "It was as Councilman Cid suggested sir. President Nield has seized control of the government and called for a planet wide mustering of our militias."

Raam nodded, sensing no deceit or lies from her. Yet...

"You're not telling me something." He murmured matter-of-factly, as if he was commenting on the weather or the clothes she wore.

The Councilwoman's face reddened slightly, and then she nodded. "Merely a suspicion my lord."

Raam waited patiently.

"I believe, from what my political contacts have heard, that the Jedi are involved somehow."

Judging from how the other three Council members reacted, their contacts had either overlooked that fact, or were woefully incompetent. Raam nodded vigorously.

"That matches my own intelligence." He turned as another compliment of stormtroopers entered the room, and Forte strode in.

"Inquisitor." He greeted seriously. "The troopers have secured what remains of the building. Our battalions are spreading outwards and establishing checkpoints at intersections. All civilians have been confined to their homes."

Raam pulled a overturned chair up for himself with the Force, sitting heavily. "Very good Admiral. Continue to comb the city for the Jedi. I want them alive if possible."

"Yes Inquisitor." Forte left hurriedly, already snapping new orders to his aides. Raam meanwhile turned to the Council.

"You." He pointed at the shallow faced man. He may have been a cowering imbecile, but he already seemed to understand the concept of obedience, something Raam didn't have time to teach. "I want you to officially declare martial law and order your National Army to help my troopers seize the city."

"Of course my lord." The Councilman rose and hurried after Forte, eager to please.

Raam sensed pleasure from the remaining Council members. All except one.

"You disagree." Raam turned to the young woman. "I'm handing you back your power."

She nodded vigorously. "Of course Inquisitor. Yet, I'm not sure we deserve it."

"You may send your thanks to the Emperor." Raam began turning, so he only felt the murderous glare she threw at his back. But it was not important. He would keep the Council alive, if only so he could maintain an appearance of legitimacy to the people of Melida/Daan. But their power was essentially gone.

Now, there was the issue of the Rebels. More specifically, the Jedi. His men and the Melida/Daan National Army would search the city block by block, until they found and apprehended them. Then, the process of conversion would begin.

* * *

Semreh huddled in the far corner of the trailer dragged by a repulsorlifter. These cross planet carriers were very common, and very low key. With the airspace no doubt swarming with fighters, taking a ground vehicle was their only option.

"So we're not leaving the city?" Sami, huddled across from him, murmured.

"Nope. They'd expect that."

"So where are we going then?" Nield murmured. "And what about the rest of your Jedi?"

Semreh was silent to that. Halber and Elena were still at the hidden Chaser base, though they'd no doubt heard about the happenings in Zehava. Halber was probably furious, Elena elated to finally be able to fight in the open. And Scout...Well, Scout was thankfully far away, where she couldn't interfere with his plans.

"They'd expect us to run, so I'm guessing the perimeter of Zehava is ringed with troopers. So instead, we're going to the one spot in Melida/Daan, where everyone has sanctuary."

Nield snapped his fingers in understanding. "Cerasi's memorial!"

Sami beamed. "So we get to the church, hole up inside with the rest of the homeless and untouchables and-"

"And wait for our allies to ride to the rescue." Semreh nodded. "Assuming this place is as sacred as you say..."

"It is." Nield confirmed with a nod. "We don't have an official religion...but admiration for Cerasi comes close. If the Imperials dared attack that, or even dragged us out, there'd probably be a planet wide revolt."

"Right." Semreh grinned, pleased with his own cunning. We hide, wait, and when the time comes, attack."

* * *

Scout followed the Prime Minister, trying to feel him through the Force and get a read on his feelings. As usual, the Force seemed to slip through her hands like water, which she found increasingly frustrating. Wasn't her new training supposed to help her with this?

The Prime Minister, ever the kindly old man, had led Scout through the slums of Vorzyd V, leaving the speeder they'd taken there far behind. The slums were clearly poor, but hardly dangerous. The Vorzdyiaks were simply not that violent, and so there was little crime down here.

"Where are we going?" Scout had asked numerous times in the winding alleyways, but the old man ignored her, simply waving her forward.

Finally, they came to one of the darker, seedier alleyways. It widened at the end, revealing a decrepit apartment complex.

"Here we are." Wotzu turned to Scout. "Now, Semreh told me that this is your homeplanet. Correct?"

Scout nodded, suddenly nervous.

"Well, I did some digging, and it wasn't hard to find your last name in the system."

"You mean...is that my family?" Scout's heart leapt, a combination of fear and excitement coursing through her.

However, Wotzu hesitated.

"Now Scout...I want you to remember that it's been years, and...well things change."

Any excitement Scout felt rushed out and was replaced by dread.

"What-do they not remember me or something?"

"No." Wotzu shook his head sadly. "They're dead."

_**The next chapter is already written. I'm just waiting for a few reviews before I post it. Whenever though...**_


	78. Chapter 78 Trapped!

**_So, this chapter actually has a couple revelations in it. Please enjoy_**

Jenna was unsurprised when the door to her quarters slid open. It was after all, only a matter of time before a group of stormtroopers or Imperial intelligence officers decided to interrogate her on what had happened the past year or so.

What did surprise her was who entered. Not stormies or the kaki clothed officers, but the tall sharp faced Inquisitor, with his deep maroon robes flapping about his armor.

"Jenna." Raam said with a nod, hurrying inside. Jenna made to stand up from her cot, but Raam waved her away. "Don't bother young lady."

Jenna bristled slightly at this. She may not be an old woman, but Raam only looked like he was slightly older, in his twenties or so. He could hardly treat her like a child.

"What do you want?" She kept her voice carefully neutral.

"You."

That, more than anything else, surprised her. Jenna, with her long black hair, and tiny figure, had always been on the receiving end of boys attention in the university. Jenna, for her part, had never encouraged or teased these suitors, happily oblivious.

"That's...forward."

Raam laughed openly, his voice hearty and loud. "Oh, dream on young lady." He flashed her a broad grin. "I mean your talents, your skills."

"I'm not making anymore bombs for you to hurt people with!" Jenna snapped. "I know you have my kids somewhere on this ship, but you can't-"

"Do you want to see them?"

Jenna's words sank in her mouth. "What?"

"I'm not a sadist Jenna. If you want to see those kids, keep them safe, then I see know reason you can't. There's no boon for me if I keep you from them."

"Soooo, what?" Jenna glared suspiciously at him. "You'll let us go?"

"No." Raam sat besides her on the cot, placing a comradely hand on her shoulder. "Like I said, I want to train you. Take you under my wing, so to say."

"Riiiiiiight." Jenna edged away slightly, uncomfortable, "Well, I'm not sure I know anything about choking people with my mind or cutting people in half."

"No, but you could learn."

Now it was Jenna's turn to laugh.

"Hmmmm, what a useful ability for me. No more crying kids." Still chuckling, she shook her head, but noticed that Raam, rather than laughing, was simply staring at her. "You're serious?"

"I could sense your ability. It's a special skill of mine. The Emperor has always had the Inquisitorial branch search for new recruits, something my skill has always helped with."

"Soooo, you think I'm a Force sensitive?"

Raam was silent. Then, without warning, he yanked his lightsaber from his belt and hurled it at her head. Jenna raised a hand to block it, but the lightsaber stopped suddenly, as if deflected by an invisible hand.

"I didn't do that." Raam observed with amusement. "Your abilities are mild, weak enough to not be noticed by most people. However, the Emperor values any Force sensitive her can recruit."

Jenna, still not entirely believing him, played along. "And, if I was a Force sensitive, and I did do this training thing, what would you do for me?"

"I can guarantee your children go to nice, clean homes. Possibly even noble families in the Emperor's inner circle."

Jenna started. Her kids. Good, happy families for each of them. Wasn't that better than any orphanage? After all, she'd killed to keep them safe. Couldn't she give up her freedom to give them a future?

"What if I refuse?" Jenna asked, defeated.

"Well, the Emperor can hardly have some Force sensitive witch running about the galaxy."

"Which means-"

"Execution."

Jenna paused. Freedom for her kids, or death. Still, Jenna felt...anxious. The man, though amiable and kind to her, joking with her easily...Jenna just had a bad feeling about him. And if she agreed to train with this man, or whatever he was talking about, her kids lives were in his hands. Hands she certainly wouldn't trust.

"Yes or no, I am bringing you with me planet-side." Raam stood, striding towards the door. "I will show you why the Empire needs you."

"Thinking you'll convince me?" Jenna's face hardened. "I'm not even sure I believe I'm Force sensitive!"

Raam said nothing, clearly done with their conversation. His robe whipping about him, he exited her quarters as two stormtroopers entered, stun cuffs at their belts. Her escorts.

* * *

Scout was stunned. No, more than stunned. She felt as if her heart had been ripped out, and she didn't know why. She'd never known her parents, nor had she ever wondered much about them. Most of the time, the shame of having left them in the slums of Vorzyd V forced her to ignore them the few times they rose to the forefront of her thought.

Now though...Somehow all that seemed wrong. Scout couldn't say she felt anguish at her parents death, and that made her feel even worse.

"They died a few years ago." Wotzu added gently, placing a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "The building is largely abandoned, but if you wanted to explore..."

Scout said nothing. She simply walked forward, and stepped into the house.

It was exactly what she expected from a slum. A small hovel with no discernible comforts. Clearly the place had been looted for valuables, leaving only a few random pieces of junk lying about.

Yet, this was her parents junk. Everything in here, they'd touched at one point or another. That made Scout...drawn to it all. If not for a small twist of fate, she would have grown up her whole life in this room.

Something in the room kept drawing her eye though; a plain grey colored box amongst the junk on the ground. Hefting it, Scout glanced along the sides, searching for a crease or seam. No openings or hatches...just smooth durasteel metal.

Yet, Scout could feel energy almost burning from the box. Familiar Force energy...

Without even thinking, Scout grasped at the Force, and for once the vast power of it was open to her. She grabbed it, yanking it close to her and reaching out towards the box with it. Without thinking, she flicked a switch on the inside, reacting with instinct more than conscious thought now.

The box whirred and buzzed, opening up to reveal a single small metal orb, a battered old cylinder, and a strange contraption that looked like a mass of metal with straps on it. Scout picked them both up, gazing carefully at the small orb. There were no obvious ways of opening it, or anything to suggest it was anything but a metal ball, save for the gentle warmth coming from it.

Without warning, a sharp pain jolted Scouts hand.

"Damnit!" She cursed, cradling her hand angrily and glaring at the tiny ball as it clattered to the ground.

She moved to kick the small sphere, but stopped when she saw it glowing with a faint blue light. It sparked slightly, and suddenly projected a small image. Scout crouched low on her haunches, squinting at the tiny figure. It was a young woman, clearly dressed for a fight in patchy armor. She held herself with a cocky sway, one hand resting casually on the hilt of a blaster pistol strapped to her waist. Her fiery red hair was held back by a thin headband, letting Scout see the fierce grin on her face.

"My name is Mira." She grinned. "And I'm guessing you're one of my relatives."

* * *

It had not been easy escaping through the city to Cerasi's sanctuary. Several times, their hovertruck had been stopped by Imperial patrols. In the end though, the entire rebel command had arrived at the towering symbol.

"This place is a place of peace. It is as sacred as any place on Melida/Daan. No native would dare violate it."

Nield sat back, leaning against one of the pews. Around him, his Chaser bodyguards were tense. A place of peace this may have been, but the Chasers were packing enough firepower to bring down several tanks.

"Word's gotten out about us though sir." Daichi informed Nield. "Our Chasers have intercepted Imperial transmissions ordering all units to converge on the square outside. They've also mobilized the National Army with Council authorization."

"Knew we should have executed them all." Fless growled angrily.

"But we didn't. We're not complete savages." Sten corrected as he cleaned his long barreled Harbinger Sniper Rifle.

"Right." Semreh grinned a little at the irony. "Send a message to Lantern Base. Have them rally here immediately. They can punch through the Star Destroyers above, and evacuate us."

"Right." Nield returned shot a glance at Daichi, who immediately returned to the portable comm unit they'd brought. "And...then what?"

Semreh shrugged. "Dunno. I'm making this up as I go."

"How very unlike you."

* * *

Jolon edged along the street ways, keeping to the shadows. He didn't sneak however. After all, neither he nor Tara would be on Imperial records. Keeping his hood up would only attract attention at this point.

Behind him, Tara was clearly nervous and jittery in the Force, no matter how much she hid it on her face. The two of them had arrived in the city just in time to witness Imperial stormtroopers seizing key points in the city, and hovertanks racing through the streets. Now, following a column of walkers sprinting down one of the streets, it was clear that the every Imperial unit was converging to one point.

"Where do you think they're going?" Tara asked breathlessly.

"My guess; wherever our old friends Semreh and the Chasers have holed up."

"Right." Tara fell silent, focusing on their trek.

Jolon turned back to his own thoughts. The events around them were moving rapidly, far to rapidly for him to predict. That, more than anything, disturbed him.

The Imperial Invasion, though surprising, was not indestructible. Jolon assumed their concentration on one area meant they were being forced to conserve their resources. So, if they could repel the Imperial forces here, they could deal a serious blow for independence.

"What do we do when we get there?" Tara spoke up again, fidgeting under the nervous silence of an occupied city,

"We lay low and wait for something to happen."

"What about Semreh?" Tara said, stopped, then added embarrassedly, "And the rest of the rebellion's leaders?"

Jolon raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "We lie low. If the rebellion's finished, we'll need to get off-planet in a hurry."

Tara began to protest, bur Jolon stopped her. "Let's face it; You're a survivor, like me. I certainly won't abandon my life to a hopeless cause. Will you?"

Tara started to answer him, but stopped. Because, for once, she really wasn't sure...

**_For the record, Jenna's Force sensitivity isn't something that's new. I tried to foreshadow it in previous chapters, like Chapter 29. Hope you all liked it! Read and review!_**


	79. Chapter 79 Legacy

**_Alright! Another CHapter! Please enjoy!_**

Semreh glanced out between the columns of the shrines walls. The Imperials were still out there, forming a perimeter of tanks and gun emplacements. Worse yet, it was clear from the uniformed Melida/Daan soldiers helping them that the National Army was back into play.

"Imagine the irony." Nield's voice murmured drily from behind him. "The President, being gunned down by his own soldiers in a national shrine."

"Not yet." Fless reminded him sourly. "We're not quite dead. And it doesn't look like their exactly storming the gates."

"So instead they starve us out." Semreh turned away from the scene, running his lightsaber through his fingers. "I love the choices this war keeps giving us."

"Quite." Fless brushed past Semreh, gazing out at the square before the church in surprise. "Hey, look!"

Semreh turned back to the square, and saw an Imperial shuttle slowly falling through the atmosphere, it's repulserlifts kicking up dust around the entrenched stormtroopers and National Army soldiers.

"Normal troopers aren't given swanky Imperial shuttles." Sten commented from behind Semreh.

"No, not unless the average stormie's gotten a pay raise." Fless raised his binos, zooming in on the shuttle as the ramp lowered.

A couple of shadowy figures glided out of the shuttle. In the faint morning light, Semreh could only barely see them, but Fless's slight intake of breath gave Semreh an idea.

"What's wrong?"

Fless handed the binos over. "You need to see this."

Semreh took the binos and jammed them to his eyes. There, stepping out of the shuttle, were a pair of what looked like ARC Troopers and the mercenaries Semreh and Daichi had fought, including...

"I recognize that girl!" He exclaimed, dropping the binos. "She was with the mercenaries."

"Great." Sten took a step back, swinging his Harbinger rifle into a ready position. "Well, then we know what to expect from her."

"No!" Nield snapped, much to Semreh's relief. "If we're seen firing from the church first, then we'll look like opportunists instead of martyrs. We want to rally people's support, not alienate them."

Semreh nodded, though inwardly his reasons for relief were more about the black haired girls safety. After all, he'd promised to keep her alive.

"All right," Semreh glanced around at the Chasers, "Sten, Fless, keep an eye on the Imperials. Don't let them out of your sight. Daichi, inform your group at the shield generator to be ready to activate it."

"Understood." Daichi returned to their comlink pack.

Before they'd fled, the Chasers had dispatched agents to the secret shield generator station beneath Zehava. The shield system for the entire planet linked there, and if the rebels wanted to activate the planetary shield generator and prevent Melida/Daan from being pounded to dust, they needed someone there to maintain control of it. Luckily, the shield generators control center was, like most projects related to the Chasers, buried deep in the catacombs of Zehava.

"Now we just wait?" Sten murmured, using his scope to scan the Imperial lines.

"Wait, and hope."

* * *

"Look! See how they hide and flee."

Raam pointed at the fortified church, practically snarling with disgust. "They cower behind their national symbols, and expect the Empire to leave them be."

Jenna nodded half-heartedly, not agreeing in the slightest. But Raam looked like a man possessed today, constantly fingering his lightsaber and fidgeting. The whole time she'd been with him, he'd either sung praise for the Emperor, or tried to convert her to be her...apprentice? Trainee?

"You should be wary Inquisitor." The hologram of Admiral Forte advised, his stiff backed military figure leaning slightly today. Forte had been given command of the fleet, while Amistad and Raam led the strike force. "It's obvious that the Jedi are trying to lure you and your forces into a political trap rather than a military one. You should-"

"Why should I or any other Imperial fear politics?" Raam swept his cloak back, stepping in the direction of the church defiantly. "The Emperor will grant us immunity."

"Yes but the last thing you want to do is rouse the anger of the people. Remember, divided Melida/Daan is no threat. United though..."

"For once, I agree with Raam." Amistad stood besides the Inquisitor, chest puffed out. "The Empire is sending reinforcments. With those, we should have enough to subjugate the entire planet, even if it does rise up."

"At the expense of millions, or even billions of lives?" Forte shook his head. "I did not join the military for massacres, and wiping out a member planets population would only weaken us."

"Wiping out their population will teach other planets whose side they want to be on!" Raam shouted back, his face flushed. "They should be begging the Emperor on hands and knees to join, but if they won't we will make examples of them."

"I don't subscribe to the Tarkin Doctrine Raam." Forte practically spat.

The Tarkin Doctrine, developed by Grand Moff Tarkin, was the Imperial idea that the Empire should be held together by fear. But for there to be fear, there needed to be examples.

"The Empire and Imperial Navy don't need ridiculous super weapons and pointless massacres. Those credits could be better spent on rebuilding our already undermanned fleets."

"Be silent Forte!" Raam growled, clearly bristling at the dangerous ground Forte was on, mentioning super weapons meant to be classified. "Your mission is to ensure the blockade of the planet stays intact. That's it."

"The Rebel leadership will be crushed here." Amistad added smugly. "Good bye Admiral. Strike force out."

The hologram of Forte wavered and disappeared and a burst of blues static. Amistad had just enough time to grin before a sharp slap from the Force sent him stumbling forward.

"Admiral, if you must insist on speaking, could you at least not cut me off mid-conversation with my Admiral." Raam stared down at Amistad, utter loathing in his eyes. "Now, I want you to deliver an ultimatum to the Rebels. They stand down within the next 6 hours, or we storm the building."

"U-Understood." Amistad murmured shakily. "And where will you be?"

"With my new apprentice of course." Raam turned away, his cloak snapping behind him.

* * *

The Imperial camp was little more than a half dozen prefabricated shelters, and a line of tanks creating a defensive barrier. Most of the troopers were simply waiting, leaning on tanks, or clustered into groups talking. A couple of them were building defensive positions, while others were coordinating their National Army allies.

Clearly, they didn't trust the National Army to stand and fight though. The stormtroopers were stationing them on the rooftops around them, where they would be clear of any heavy fighting, but would also be able to lay down a good hot masking fire.

Jenna was sticking close to the mercenaries, not particularly interested in being alone with thousands of stormtroopers. All in all, the mercenaries acted as though she wasn't there. Only C-41 paid her any mind, making small talk occasionally as he cleaned his gear. Jenna noted that his gear was already as clean as it could be.

A sudden feeling in her gut caused her to turn, looking behind her to see Raam approaching her.

"Come with me." He ordered quietly before turning to the mercenaries. "You men are to remain here and not interfere with our operation."

CTA-132 stiffened, his expression unreadable beneath his helmet, but clearly angry.

"We have orders to eliminate a target in that building, and we will complete our mission." C-41 pulled his helmet back atop his head.

"No, the traitors are mine." Raam rounded on them, snarling viciously. "You will leave them to me. That's an order clone."

"This guys getting on my last nerves." A small voice in C-41's ear said. He almost jerked in surprise. CTA-132 had never used the private helmet comms before.

"Udessi vode." C-41 murmured back soothingly. "Keep calm. You know what this guy is right?"

"Yeah, and I was trained to kill his kind." C-41 could practically feel CTA-132 itching to kill this man.

Luckily, the mercenaries intervened.

"We weren't paid for a large scale battle." Gerik interrupted harshly. "We're being paid to bring in the Jedi, that's it. Credits, we can return and replace. Our lives however, are slightly more valuable."

For once, C-41 was grateful for the mercenary attitude. He made a mental note to remember this next time someone was about to gun Gerik down.

"We can't take the Jedi down on our own CTA-132." C-41 said into the comm. "Just stand down okay?"

CTA-132 said nothing, but relaxed a hair.

"We'll obey your orders for now Inquisitor," C-41 warned, "But remember that we take our orders from Imperial Command, not the Inquisitor lackeys. If you want to order us around, better bring an admiral."

Raam said nothing, waving for Jenna to follow him as he headed for one of the outlying prefabricated shelters. C-41 resisted the urge to blast the man into atoms from behind.

"That man's gonna be a problem." CTA-132 murmured, now talking plainly to C-41. "I don't like his attitude."

"And I don't work for fanatics." Gerik added, looking at both of the clones. "I'm assuming you guys have a plan for him."

C-41 nodded, leaning on his rifle in the trooper equivalent of a nonchalant stance. "For once, I'm gonna let the Jedi handle this one."

* * *

"They're moving." Tara warned Jolon. The ancient Jedi turned, seeing the stormtroopers forming into squads. "They're gonna try and take the church!"

"No, they couldn't possibly be that foolish." Jolon pointed at the troopers, fanning out rather than focusing on the church. "Their moving through the city."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Jolon commented in a low tone, forcing Tara back into the shadows of one of the alleyways. "They're rounding up hostages."

As he said that, the first squad of troopers entered one of the surrounding dwellings and began dragging the inhabitants out by gunpoint.

"You see? They'll try to force the Jedi to surrender, or they'll kill the hostages. Lose lose for us."

"Either the Jedi surrender, or they'll lose alotta PR with the people of Melida/Daan." Tara mused, pulling her goggles from her belt. "We should do something."

"Yeah, we should get off-planet. Fast." Jolon turned to leave, but Tara lashed out, grabbing his shoulder in a firm Force grip.

"You're gonna run? Just like that?"

Jolon shook off her grip, and felt a small jolt of surprise. Tara was learning quickly, and she had enough raw power to arguably break through a trained Jedi's defenses already. Of course, Jolon was far more skilled than the average Jedi, but still...

"You can play hero if you want. I want to live."

"Well, I'm not." Tara growled, strapping her goggles on and moving towards the crowds of hostages being gathered. "Semreh wouldn't have backed down from this."

Jolon was quiet for a moment. Then, "How serious are you about Semreh?"

Tara started. "What? What do you mean?"

"Right," Jolon rolled his eyes, "Because nobody have seen you ogling each other. I'm old, but not that blind yet."

"He was not ogling me...was he? Was he ogling me?"

Again, Jolon rolled his eyes. The girl's rising color in her cheeks said it all.

"It's hardly constructive to have a smitten girl making decisions." Jolon scanned her over, seeing her defiant stance and the x shaped weapon clenched in her hand. "Still...if you're gonna do this, at least make sure we do it right."

"Meaning?"

He sighed. "We get to high ground, and wait. If the Empire makes a move...well, at least we'll have the advantage for once..."

* * *

"Well, the Empire's acted predictably I guess." Nield joined Semreh at the entrance of the church, his usually unruffled suit in disarray. "What do you think our options are?"

Semreh shook his head. "I know what your thinking, and no. Not even a last stand in the memorial to one of your greatest heros will convince Melida/Daan's people to revolt."

"Then what was the point of us penning ourselves up here?"

Semreh just couldn't answer. He was following the Force now, and there was little else he could do.

and there was little he could do besides feel his way through. He hated it, but events had spiraled out of his hands now.

"We'll just hold out." Semreh grumbled, walking past Chasers who had taken up positions in the perimeter of the church. "We don't have much of a choice. Have you heard anything about the Militia?"

Nield nodded. "They're still forming up. The weapons caches on Melida/Daan have always been tightly controlled, for obvious reasons. Our people are still arming and organizing, but such preparation takes time."

"And we still have no idea how close the fleet is." Nield added forebodingly. "Melida/Daan has a reasonable compliment of atmospheric fighters and speeders, but nothing that can compete with Imperial Star Destroyers."

Semreh nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut as he heard a commotion outside. Grabbing a discarded Chaser rifle, he took up a position at their perimeter.

"Rebel insurrectionists!" A voice called over a loudspeaker. Semreh used to scope of the rifle, zooming in on the speaker. It was the man who had led the mercenaries from the shuttle.

"You are trapped. You have lost control and the good will of the people of Melida/Daan. I am ordering you as Inquisitor of the Empire to lay down your arms. You will all be taken alive into Imperial custody, and any Jedi amongst you will be delivered into my...personal custody."

Semreh grimaced at the man's pause. Like he was gonna let that happen. Semreh leaned over to suggest that Nield simply surrender, but the president shushed him sharply.

"Furthermore, know that I have hostages." The Inquisitor waved his hand and a trip of stormtroopers prodded a small gathering of young children into the open. "For every hour you delay, I will kill one of these children, without mercy and a clean conscience. Their young blood...will be entirely on your hands!"

Semreh, a boy born of years of fighting in the Clone Wars, who had led countless hopeless battles and won, suddenly felt more helpless than he'd ever imagined. The girl too seemed horrified up there, so horrified that one of the clones standing with the mercs was forced to restrain her from rushing to the children.

"_Ah, so those are her children."_ Semreh watched the whole scene carefully, his analytical mind already searching for a way out.

And then he realized something. He wasn't concerned for the children's lives. He simply wasn't factoring them in. He had taken compassion out of the picture, even as he allowed the Force to guide him.

Suddenly, Semreh did not feel like a Jedi. He felt like a tired old warrior, who just wanted to sleep. Lowering the rifle, Semreh turned and sank to his feet, rubbing his hand across his face tiredly.

"Semreh, what do we do?"

He opened his eyes. Nield was looking down on him. The former president looked like he'd been fighting a guerrilla war for weeks rather than the few hours their insurrection had lasted.

"I don't know." Semreh admitted. "I truly don't."

* * *

Scout stood, the holocron before her began to shimmer out of existence. The red haired woman, Mira, had told her much, and given her much too. Reaching into the box that had contained the holocron, Scout pulled out the long cylindrical object that had lain besides the holocron for centuries.

"My lightsaber." Holocron Mira explained, her voice filled with what could have been longing. "See if it works..."

It took Scout a couple seconds to find the activator switch, but when she finally pressed her palm against the cool metal, the blade of the saber flashed into furious light, it's orange hue casting a flame-like image against the wall.

"Very good." The holocron smiled. "Now, the wrist launcher."

Scout nodded, reaching in and attaching the complicated machinery of the wrist launcher to her forearm with a variety of leather straps and strips. She grinned as she flexed her arms, testing the weapons weight.

"I think I like this."

Holocron Mira laughed. "You're definitely my ancestor all right. It doesn't come with an instruction manual, but you seem like a smart kid."

Scout moved her fingers experimentally, and found that by flexing certain muscles and moving her fingers certain ways, she activated different weapons on the launcher. One quick movement would release a small couple inch blade to slide above her knuckle, while another would power up the cable launcher slung beneath her wrist.

"I think I'll get the hang of it."

"I bet." The holocron of Mira began to flicker again, it's hundred years old mechanics apparently failing.

"The Force works in mysterious ways. Years, and years, and years I've waited for one of my ancestors to show enough Force sensitivity to open this box. I would have never thought it'd take this long. I thought my son would wield that lightsaber..."

The holocron shook it's shimmering head as if a fly were annoying it. "Bah! No time for the past. I know Alain lived eventually, otherwise you wouldn't be here right."

"I'm sure he was happy." Scout comforted the small figure, but it snorted.

"I'm just an imprint of Mira. Of the her teachings and small wisdoms, if you could call it that. I have no idea what happened after she made me. Still," Tiny figure was really flickering now, changing between a disembodied voice and wavering picture now, "I wonder if I made a difference. I wonder if anything I did mattered."

The holocron image wavered a little more, it's lights shifting from color to color, distorting. And then, for a moment, the image solidified, and Mira stood there, her image looking infinitesimally sad.

And with that, the small holocron winked out of existence.

* * *

Scout stayed kneeling for a bit, still processing what she'd just spent hours absorbing. Mira Bralor, her ancestor...a Jedi Master. She had a legacy now...a reputation to maintain. Mira had apparently given her life, saving the lives of people she cared about. Scout, kneeling in the empty house of her long dead parents, nodded to herself and looked down at the bright orange lightsaber in her hand.

She'd always wanted to be a Jedi, ever since she was a child. SHe'd struggled, worked, and bled for the Jedi. It was all she'd ever wanted, and so she'd devoted her entire being to that goal. Now though...now she felt like there was more to it. She had a family, an ancestry of Jedi Knights defending the galaxy long ago. And even if she was the first Force sensitive in her family for generations...It was her legacy.

Yes, she would defend that legacy. Her family's legacy. She would become a Jedi even in these darkest of days...no matter what.

* * *

When she finally left left the hovel that had been her family's home, Scout found Wotzu looking worried and irritated as he spoke into a comlink.

"Inform me if anything changes." He said irritably into the comlink before turning to Scout once again. "Did you find everything you need?"

Scout nodded, almost forgetting for a moment that beneath that grandfatherly appearance, was the mind of a savvy politician and world leader.

"What's wrong?" She asked, not wasting time. Her stride had confidence and purpose to it now.

"Something has happened on Melida/Daan." Wotzu waved her towards the speeder, shutting the door behind her before getting in himself. "It seems that the rebellion has started whether we're ready or not. The Fleet and any rebels who have joined with us are to rally at Melida/Daan."

"And Semreh and the rest of the Jedi?"

"Pinned down by Imperials." The Prime Minister looked concerned. "I don't know whether we'll get there in time."

"We will." Scout said, her voice brimming with confidence. "Have Tag and the Outer Rim Crime Syndicate finalize any details they have. I'm heading back to Melida/Daan."

Wotzu sputtered slightly, thrown off at having such a young girl give him orders.

"Shouldn't you rendezvous with the fleet?"

"There's no time." Scout pressed hurriedly. "I'm taking the _Arrow_, and I'll get Semreh and the rest of the Jedi out before they can be executed."

For a moment, Wotzu looked like he might argue, but then shrugged.

"Very well." The Prime Minister forced a weak smile. "But if you get captured, kindly leave my name out of any interrogations you may be party to."

"I promise." Scout said, forcing her own smile. "And...thank you Wotzu...I needed this.

Wotzu looked slightly confused for a moment, perhaps not understanding the importance of what had happened in there for Scout. Then he shrugged.

"We all need family little Scout...Even dead ones sometimes..."

**_Thank you all for reading! If any of this was confusing, it's possibly because it drew partially from my spin off story. Still, I hope you all enjoyed it!_**


	80. Chapter 80 Surrender?

**_This was actually one chapter split into 2 :P Please enjoy! _**

Nield frowned, holstering the slugthrower he carried for personal protection beneath his suit, but keeping the weapon within reach.

"_A hostage situation..._" He surveyed the area, paying careful attention to the entrenched stormtroopers and National Army troops surrounding the church.

A crowd of Melida/Daan natives had gathered, held back by troopers in riot garb and wielding stub batons. They were clearly distressed by the Empire's demands, but the question was how would it affect their actions.

Would the Empire's threats galvanize them to action, or cause them to hate the insurrectionists and rebels for not surrendering?

Nield looked to Semreh. He was meditating apparently, leaning against the wall, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion and his eyes closed. The boy was clearly a skilled leader of troops, but he was young and had been on the run for weeks. That would take it's toll on anyone.

His frown deepened as he saw more movement out there, the Inquisitor who'd issued the threat leading a raven haired girl away from the children. Nield turned to Daichi, who was as always standing on the wings for orders.

"I think our best plan is to arrange a rescue of some type. Maybe sneak a couple of agents in there and-"

"We'll do no such thing."

Nield looked down, startled to hear Semreh speak. The young Jedi got to his feet, hitching his lightsaber to his belt.

"So you have a plan then?"

Semreh nodded, but his grin and any enthusiasm he'd had was gone.

"Yes. We're gonna surrender."

* * *

Raam glared at the girl, feeling disgust at the girl beneath him. She was begging, pleading for him to let the children go. A sith didn't beg though.

"Please. Please." Jenna looked up at him, her eyes watering. "I'll do anything."

"The Emperor does not need a servant who is merely serving him out of fear. You should be begging to stand with him against the rebels! You should be forever grateful if he chooses you to learn the dark side!"

"I'll learn." Jenna swore quickly. "I'll serve him loyally! Just please let the children go."

"If you need an incentive," Raam snarled, "Then you are weaker than I thought." He shoved her away effortlessly, leaving her back in her tent, silent sobs shaking her body.

When he left the shelter, Raam was ambushed by Admiral Amistad.

"What do you mean to do if the rebels do not surrender?" The heavy man asked worriedly. "Do we storm the temple?"

"Hardly. They will give themselves up."

"How do you know?"

"They're Jedi." Raam explained simply, gripping the lightsaber at his belt even tighter. "And I know Jedi better than most people."

* * *

As Tag hurriedly strapped himself into the _Arrow_, he couldn't help but admire how Scout had handled herself. She didn't waste time asking questions or fretting over whether her friends were okay or not. She simply got to work.

"Are we almost there?" She asked, surprising him as she arrived behind him.

He looked back for a moment, and saw that Scout looked like she was dressed for a fight. Over her Jedi robes, she'd strapped a bandolier of knives and other supplies like grappling cables and tools. She didn't have any visible blasters or explosives, but he could tell just from her stance that this young girl was more dangerous than she looked. Over all this, she'd thrown on a long duster coat to conceal her armaments.

"We're on our way." Tag leaned back, feeling for the three blasters he wore beneath his clothes, and the sawed off scatter gun strapped to his side. "ETA is about one hour if we push the engines."

"Do it." She ordered, taking a seat in the copilots chair.

She was quiet then, simply staring into space as if deep in thought. The girl was focused, but it unnerved Tag to see anyone that young so...heavily armed. He could understand though. The kids in the Jedi Order...they were given weapons almost before they could walk and trained to use them for years. It would turn anyone into a natural soldier.

Tag was a criminal at heart. He'd lived this long on luck alone. The discipline a Jedi would have was foreign and strange to him, but he recognized what it did to young people like Scout. She barely an adult, but carried herself with unbelievable poise.

"Have you given any thought into how we're going to rescue your companions?" Tag asked. "It's not like the Empire's just going to let us walk in and drag them out of that church."

Scout shook her head. "No, but I have an idea."

"Yes?"

"Improvise."

Tag smiled despite himself. "My favorite."

* * *

Semreh followed the Chasers and the leaders of their little insurrection out of the church, his head down. He may have been a Jedi, but there was hardly any reason to draw attention to that fact.

Stormtroopers trained their weapons on them as they exited, and one squad led by the Inquisitor moved forward to relieve them of their weapons.

"Which among you has led this insurrection against the Emperor?"

Up close, the Inquisitor was a handsome man, powerfully built and easily taller than the relatively short Semreh. He surveyed the group after his question for a moment, and his eyes soon rested on Semreh. He knew then, that this Inquisitor was a powerful Force user.

"You." The man approached Semreh. "You are a Jedi."

"Yes." Semreh answered without hesitation. "Who asks?"

"Inquisitor Raam, servant of Lord Palpatine." He glared at Semreh, and silently the two were clearly sizing each other up in the Force. "I hereby arrest you, Jedi Semreh, for crimes against the Emperor."

"I do not recognize his authority." Semreh spat back angrily, but Raam only smiled.

"You will...Like me, you will..."

* * *

Bren scowled as a group of stormtroopers herded him and Sonya into stun cages they'd set up in the square surrounding the church. That Inquisitor fellow...He had dragged Semreh off towards the church where he and the rest of the Imperial strike force were setting up their headquarters. Despite the lack of violence so far, a growing crowd of Melida/Daan had begun to form, angered by the use of their symbol of peace as a headquarters for war.

"The Inquisitor concerns me." Sonya murmured at his side. "He's unpredictable...illogical."

"That must scare you." Bren joked.

"It does actually." Sonya sighed as she handed over both her and Bren's sidearms to stormtroopers. "Either he has some motive that I can't see, or he's crazy."

"Or a fanatic." Bren reasoned, remembering Raam's constant infatuation with the Emperor. "But what could make any man have such obscene loyalty."

Sonya said nothing, but silently thought that Bren himself had the ability to inspire such loyalty. He'd been a famed Confederate for a reason after all. Sonya knew the reason Bren, not a Jedi, needed to lead this war was because men would follow him to death.

"It is a reasonable question." Sonya mused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Does the Jedi have a plan?"

"I don't know." Bren was looking around as though distracted now. His eyes were scanning the rooftops intently. "But I don't think we'll need one for once."

Sonya followed his gaze, and caught a flash of...something.

"Kilmaulsi?" Sonya murmured.

"I think so." Bren leaned back from the bars, sitting down heavily for a moment in the center of the cell. "We should stay ready."

"For what?" Sonya asked, her body tense and ready.

"Rescue."

* * *

Seth watched from his position high above the rounded clearing around the church for that martyr Cerasi. He'd never fully understood how one person could be so important to a whole planet.

There were many things that he didn't understand of course, a fact he freely admitted. Yet, the only thing he wanted to understand was how to break the Emperor's hold on him. He knew it had something to do with his armor, and with bonds through the Force, but that wasn't enough.

However he broke those bonds though, he knew he would need an exceptionally powerful Force user. He himself could never stand against the power of the Emperor. But that girl...

Scanning with the scope of his sniper rifle, Seth saw the old man Jedi and that girl Tara sprinting across the rooftops below. Hidden from the stormtroopers below, but clearly visible to him. And then there was that Inquisitor.

Oh yes, Seth recognized him.

_Do you remember why this is happening?"_

Sharp pain shooting through his body, causing him to flail and his muscles twitch.

_It is because you were ungrateful._

Yes, Seth remembered this man. It was he who had captured him to begin with, and had overseen his long torture. Seth for a moment contemplated ambushing the man and beating him to death with his cinderblock sized fists, but then dismissed the thought. Revenge was fine, but Seth preferred focusing on his freedom.

Still, it would be a fine time to observe his real target...and see how she'd progressed.

* * *

"I hate this." Elena murmured for the...was it the seventh or sixth time? Halber had lost count. As usual, he ignored her, cradling his Lasersplicer repeater beneath his cloak.

"I mean, we're two Jedi! Used to be we would have already rescued the hostages, captured the bad guys, and been off to the next mission by now."

"That was a long time ago." Halbur reasoned, his eyes not leaving the church. He could sense Semreh in there, as well as the Inquisitor.

"We could do it you know." Elena shifted again, restless. "Two Jedi. We take one of those general types hostage. We could win right now. No bloodshed. Well, minimum anyways."

Halber nodded distractedly, knowing that she was just blowing off steam. The crowd was restless and angry, while the stormtroopers had turned the church into something resembling a fortress, with the rebel ringleaders trapped in force cages.

"But we're going to wait aren't we?" Elena sat down heavily against the side of a building, sighing. "Right?"

Halber said nothing for a moment, and then nodded. "Semreh will have a plan. He always does. Besides, we'll win. We have to."

Elena felt an involuntary shudder. Unlike Scout, unlike even Halber, she could and was ruthless at times. But even she was scared of a phrase that could be summed up 'we have to win'. Those four words were the first step down a road to hell.

**_Thank you all for reading! Please review! It doesn't take long to write a quick note of what you thought, and it keeps me going_**


	81. Chapter 81 Raam's Origins

_**Alright, the next chapter will be soon! Please enjoy this chapter!**_

As Tag set the Arrow down, even he could sense that something was wrong. There was no ominous feeling in the air despite the apparently abandoned spaceport they'd landed in. They'd had little problem sneaking through the Imperial blockade, as traffic around Melida/Daan had been driven into a frenzy.

Thousands of freighters and small ships were buzzing like wasps around the planet, fleeing the trouble brought on by the Imperial invasion. The Star Destroyers were too busy snapping up these escaping ships to notice one small freighter sneaking into the planet.

They stepped from the ship into an empty area. Tag didn't really expect the spaceport to be bustling. After all, the planet had descended into chaos. No air traffic controller or any other type of authority had challenged them on approach.

Still, he'd expected there to be someone in a spaceport of a city like Zehava.

"This is a trap." He stated bluntly, drawing his sawed off shattergun from his side.

"I know." Scout turned, moving back to back with Tag.

From the entry way to the port, a muffled shouting was followed by one clear word. "Clear."

An explosion blew the durasteel door clear off it's hinges, hurling it inside. In stormed a trio of troopers, heavily armored and advanced. Clone commandos. Three of them fanned out quickly while a third covered them from the doorway.

Scout fell into a fighting stance, her sky blue lightsaber already burning into existence while her other hand drew a knife. Tag followed suite, raising his scattergun to his face, but even as he did a sinking feeling was burning into his stomach. A young Jedi padawan and a half-assed swoop gang member had no business going toe to toe with hardened Republic- sorry, _Imperial _Commandos.

As they closed in, calling for them to drop their weapons, Scout also felt a flash of doubt eroding her will. The one covering them from the doorway fired a warning shot from his sniper attachment. That was enough for Tag.

"I give man." He said, raising his scattergun and letting it hand by the trigger guard.

For a second, fury flashed onto Scout's face as she stepped away from him, her saber still raised. Her face fell moments later though as the reality of their situation fell on her. She wasn't even sure her lightsaber could cut through their shielded armor.

"Me too. I give up."

* * *

Semreh was obscenely used to being uncomfortable. Sleeping in foxholes and inside the cramped confines of tanks made one almost immune to discomfort. Still, Semreh wasn't exactly surprised that the Empire pushed that tolerance to the limit with him.

On the top of the church, in one of several small towers housing bells for toll, the Inquisitor had chained Semreh up between two pillars, leaving him there to look down on the square below. He was allowed at the very least to watch his rebellion unravel before him.

The manacles holding him were, according to his captors, solid beskar purchased from fringe elements on Mandalore, and had been welded together so their were no mechanisms for Semreh to open with the Force. Primitive, but effective. Sometimes simplicity was most effective after all.

The Inquisitor Raam stood in front of him, his sharp eyes searching for any sign of breaking on the young Jedi's part. To his credit, he had not yet resorted to physical torture. Rather, he was placing a constant pressure on Semreh's mind through the Force, trying to catch glimpses of his allies and history.

"You're not going to find anything." Semreh snapped with a grin, more derisive than actually angry. "I served in Republic Special Operations. I'm not trained to answer questions."

"I have no doubt." Raam murmured. "Yet, I can sense you've been in contact with other Force sensitives."

Semreh silently fumed with anger and surprise. All Jedi had unique talents and abilities. Raam clearly had an advanced form of sensitivity. The Jedi would often train these Jedi to recruit new Jedi across the galaxy. To be able to sense traces of other Force sensitives on him...Raam was clearly powerful.

"My troops have already captured one of your compatriots, and are bringing her here."

This time, Semreh's mental discipline broke.

_Tara!_

The girl was untrained and at extreme risk if she was captured. Her powers were unstable at best, a unconfined hurricane at worst. And if the Imperials had her, what had happened to Jolon? He knew they'd been out training at the time of the invasion and had been hoping that either them or Elena and Halber could stay free to help them later.

"I'm told she surrendered without a fight in the spaceport minutes after landing. The commandos I had watching the area are bringing her here as we speak."

_Spaceport? Scout then? Did she make it back only to be captured?_

"I see." Semreh said, his face stoney and emotionless. "And you're telling me this because..."

"I assume you'd like to know who your roommate is before she joins us." Raam turned and nodded to a couple troopers standing behind him.

The white clad soldiers hurried forward, carrying a second set of manacles that they pounded into the pillars behind Semreh. They'd be back to back, kept out of sight deliberately, but able to hear each other. An interrogation tactic.

"I'm not sure I should torture you." Raam mused, getting right up to Semreh's face now, smiling. "I want to present you to the Emperor as an able bodied servant, and Imperial interrogation techniques can be sooooo...dismembering."

"Pshhh!" Semreh snorted. "Try me. I'll pay you back every limb I lose later."

"Oh, who says I'll use it on you."

At that moment, the sounds of muffled yelling began to sound from behind a door leading into the tower before finally exploding into the sounds of a struggle. Two commandos marched in, carrying Scout in between them by her elbows as her legs pounded at them and railed against her captors. A third carried what appeared to be a pile of her weapons.

"Ah, here she is." Raam swept over, patting Scout on the head. "I'm sure this one is just a rock of fortitude. Yet, if you're so adamant that torture is useless on you, perhaps it will work on her."

Though he couldn't see her, Semreh could hear the commandos stringing Scout up and welding her hands into manacles. Semreh gritted his teeth. This was getting worse every second.

"Now," Raam smiled, stepping to the side and standing between the two padawans so neither could see him. "What shall we talk about?"

"Eat dung kath bite!" Scout yelled, her anger boiling. "Semreh, don't-"

"I won't." Semreh's will was iron in this. No amount of torture to either of them would convince him to give up their allies.

"Now now, I just want to talk. For instance, there's one question I've wanted to ask you rebels and terrorists; why do you despise Palpatine so?"

Semreh could feel Scout's anger rolling over the Force.

"Why! Is that a joke?"

"Why, no." Semreh could just hear Raam's mocking smile. "I mean, why not serve under Palpatine. All he does is bring peace to the galaxy."

Both Scout and Semreh gave long derisive snorts at the same time. It would have been comical under different circumstances.

"Our dead brothers and sisters are reason enough to fight the Empire until it's scattered." Semreh growled. "Cut the politics bull. I don't have time for it."

"Oh, you have the rest of your life to listen to me." Raam snapped, his voice giving a subtle threat. "I've read your dossier Semreh, or at least what we could find of it. The Jedi Temple took great care to destroy your records before the Empire could retrieve them it seems."

This was news to Semreh, and it surprised him. He and his Master had admittedly been part of several Special Operations, such as the search for Asajj Ventress and Grevious. That warranted some blacked out parts of his records, but not their total destruction. Of course, the Jedi would have tried to destroy as much as they could before they'd lost the Temple. Maybe they were just casualties of battle.

"You though..." Raam said, addressing Scout now. "We know almost everything about you. Your records were quite enlightening."

"Go to hell." Scout said through gritted teeth. Raam was in front of her now, looking her up and down while going through the pile of weapons they'd found on her.

"Knives, two lightsabers, and Force knows what else. What kind of Jedi carries an armory around with her? Do you even know how to use half of this?"

"Let me down and I'll show you."

"Ah, clique threats and blustering won't cut it young Jedi. No no, you should take some lessons from your friend over there. Force knows he's partaken in his share of interrogations."

Silence this time. Semreh could only hope Scout could ignore this little weevil.

"Abandoned by your first master...left at the Temple while she fought a war and died." Raam made a mocking sound of pity. "Don't tell me your participation in this campaign is just compensation for that shame."

More silence.

"You joined a second master later of course, but he fared no better. The Jedi and Republic threw you at the Confederacy, using you as pawns in a hopeless fight. Cannon fodder."

And still, Scout said nothing. Semreh could feel her anger and shame rising though.

_Don't listen Scout! _He urged silently.

"Sidelined, almost sent to be a farmer on some remote world. Yet, your records say you excelled in many non-Force lessons. Why would the Temple ignore such clear talent?"

"You know, I myself was like you once." Semreh felt Scout's surprise spike in the Force.

"Oh yes, I was a padawan at the Temple. A touch more in touch with the Force than you perhaps, but ignored and forgotten. I worked hard, training and sharpening my Force skills for years, yet I remained essentially average. While my colleagues rose to padawans, I remained at the Temple until I was finally sent away to the Agricultural Corp."

"It was there I worked, unable to advance beyond the dirt I worked. I was furious, and my rage continued to grow over the years."

Raam was clearly reminiscing now, his emotions a swirling mix of anger, shame, and contempt. What's worse, Semreh began to feel Scout sympathizing with him.

"I was stuck there, until the Clone Wars. It was then that I saw what the galaxy had really become; a lawless, chaotic world. I hated it. All that talk of taking the best and being peacekeepers, and the Jedi had failed at that. I felt a grim satisfaction every time I heard a former friend or former youngling had died or been assassinated or blown up or..." Raam grinned in Scout's face. "Well, you get the picture."

"After the Purge," Raam continued, "The Agricultural Corp was rounded up. All of us were brought before the Emperor and presented a choice; join the Emperor's glorious dream of a bright future, or die."

"Some required...persuasion. I however joined immediately."

"Traitor." Semreh murmured contemptuously. One of the commandos punched him in the stomach.

"Maybe," Raam admitted, "But my actions were justified. I gave away half my life to the Jedi, only to have them push me down. The Emperor accepted me. He gave me a purpose, a dream of a better galaxy. I was made an equal, at times a leader, of those who previously had been ranked higher than me solely due to an accidental birth with Force sensitivity."

Raam was talking solely to Scout now, looking deep into her sharp, green eyes. "Join us Scout. Join the Empire. Join someone who will reward hard work, rather than ignore it and toss you aside. The Emperor admires loyalty, skill, and hard work. Help him, help us create a galaxy of peace the Jedi never could."

Silence again. It droned on and on, louder than screaming. Scout's emotions were to confused now, broken and shattered. Semreh could gleam nothing of her decision. Then, the solidified, hardening suddenly into one powerful feeling; No.

There was a crack, and muffled cursing from Raam as he staggered backwards. If Semreh had to guess, judging from what he could glimpse craning his neck of her shoulder, he had leaned in a little to close to Scout's head, and received a mouthful of forehead in return.

"Go to hell." She growled simply.

Raam quickly regained his composure quickly, sweeping past Scout to Semreh. He pointedly ignored his bleeding lip.

"Very well, we'll try more later." Raam was smiling evilly again. "However, I do want you to know that we will be having a small bonfire down there today. Our first guest, to start off the execution of your leaders, will be a young lady I believe you've met."

Semreh swallowed. Jenna. It had to be.

"Yes, she will be first to go through the very painful execution we have planned." The Inquisitor stood back, straightening his cloak before striding away, his four clone commandos following. "After all, this Empire will need examples."

With that, the Inquisitor was gone, leaving the Padawans alone, save the four stormtroopers training their weapons on the Jedi. And once again that day, Semreh did not know what to do.

* * *

Jenna felt herself being shoved and hustled out of the tent, her blindfold keeping her oblivious to her surroundings. The butts of their rifles were cold on her back, their muzzles pushing her along.

Another sob slipped from her throat. How had this happened? She was a mother at heart, not a soldier or a terrorist! Why had this happened!

"Ah, Jenna." A familiar voice said. Raam, back from playing with his new Jedi.

"Please, just don't harm the kids." She begged. "Please!"

Her voice had risen to a scream. Around her she could hear crowds roaring at the Imperials, clearly enraged that such a spectacle was taking place at a site holy to them, but they were held at bay by stormtroopers and tanks.

"Blindfold off." Raam snapped angrily.

The light flooding into her eyes briefly blinded Jenna, leaving her speechless and lost. She would have preferred it to what she saw next.

A single steel pole had been erected in the middle of the square, in a wide clearing. Standing around it were four stormtroopers holding flamethrowers, massive plasma packs strapped to their back. And Jenna realized, this was her fate.

She stopped struggling. It was over, and somehow, that made her happier than the constant waiting. She only prayed to whatever god watched over that church, that her children be taken care of. Jasper would try, but he was just a child. Would Raam kill them just to further punish her, even in the afterlife?

Maybe, maybe not. Jedi, Imperials...she was just a pawn they used to further their goals.

Raam strode up to her as the stormtroopers bound her to the pole, tying her hands and feet. The crowd grew silent.

"Jenna Ter, you are hereby accused of terrorist actions against citizens of the Empire. By my authority as Inquisitor of the Empire, I sentence you to death by immolation."

Raam stepped away, unable to hide a glance up to the church tower. He smiled.

_A pawn._ Jenna thought miserably. _I can't even control my own destiny._

Raam raised his hand, the stormtroopers raised their flamethrowers. Then, a moment after Raam's hand fell, flames engulfed her.

_**Next Chapter coming soon! Please Read and Review! Keep me writing!**_


	82. Chapter 82 27th Battle of Zehava

**_Please Enjoy!_**

Bolt hurried up the ramp of the shuttle, following the rest of the Shriekhawks as they prepared to join the rest of the fleet. The entirety of the Insurrectionist force was being rallied here. Confederate Remnants mixed with Pro-Republic rebels, and even a few groups of people who were surprising. Pirates, smugglers, and other renegades whose businesses had been interrupted by strict Imperial regulations.

Even as their forces gathered here, Bolt knew that other cells of the rebel insurrection all across the galaxy were also rising up and preparing for war.

"About time." Garner growled, shouldering a grenade launcher. He and the rest of his squad were among the best in the Shriekhawk battalion, and would be invaluable.

Most important of all, they were led by Spears. The man was a natural soldier, and someone Bolt would be keeping an eye on from now on.

Once they were all strapped into the small shuttle, the ship disengaged from Lantern Base, and began accelerating away. It was then that the fleet came into view.

It was massive, and unbelievably varied. Massive and practically ancient _Invincible_-class cruisers rolled across the viewport. _Sabaoth_ frigates swarmed around them, while a conglomerate of fighters ranging from outdated Headhunters to the sleek and new Shadowcats darted through patrol vectors. There were _Deepwater_-class freighters, proof that someone on Dac was supporting them, mingling with _Maka Eekai_ transports. Sleek yellow N-1's mixed with jagged Droid Starfighters, Trandoshan boarding frigates covered by V-Wings and ARC-170s with garish Republic colors.

It was a massive patchwork of ships the likes of which Bolt had never seen. He even saw a few Venators and Dreadnaughts mixed amongst them.

"Look at them all." Hylo, the squads youngest member, said in awe. "How many are there?"

"Less than a percent of the Imperial Fleet, and even less up to date tech." Spears informed gruffly.

"And a distinct lack of cohesion." Their Bothan member Kola commented drily.

Hylo looked back at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean we've got races and species from across the galaxy, and no definite way of controlling them and making sure they mesh together. They'll each have to fight separately in their own units with their own commanders, and that makes for a complicated chain of command."

Bolt was quiet, merely observing. He admired the young Bothans tactical acumen. She clearly had experience somewhere. Bothan SpyNet? Maybe even Bothan Special Task Forces?

"They'll come together though." Garner stated confidently. "They'll have to. How else will any of us get out of this alive?"

"You'll see." Kola insisted. "Somewhere down the line, these small divisions will end up being a huge problem."

"We'll see."

The whole squad jumped slightly. They seemed to have almost forgotten about their pale, quiet commander.

"But before any of you completely lose hope, look at you five. Three Humans, a Mirialan, and a Bothan. The most cohesive unit of the Shriekhawks." He stood up as the shuttle docked with the _Invincible_-class cruiser Darkest Knight, opening it's rear hatch to allow them access to the larger ship. "We'll be fine."

They turned and strode down the ramp, and the sight that greeted them seemed designed to make Bolt's point.

Wookies shouldering rocket launchers from frail Twi'lek hands. Weequay and Togrutans chatting as they sighted scoped rifles and assault weapons. Bolt saw pirate Trandoshans, warrior Kilmaulsi, stout Gran, tall Duros.

He saw a trio of Mon Calamari being directed as they drove a four wheeled vehicle back onto a transport. A couple Mrlssi and Vor compared the plumage common amongst their avian species, while a few steps away a Gungan, Geonosian, and, surprisingly enough, a massive armored Mandalorian who looked like he may be a Barabel all exchanged weapons, searching through an overflowing crate of explosives. He saw Gossom Commandos standing alongside their fellow Confederate Koorivar Fusiliers.

Even the most criminal elements of the galaxy seemed to have joined the fight. A Hutt, of all things, seemed to be directing half his criminal cartel in the process of cleaning their weapons, while a Nemoidian overseer used a remote to march a battalion of battle droids onto the cramped confines of one of their landing ships.

Even Bolt, whose ability to show emotion was in question, felt his eyes widen slightly at the sight. All these species had rallied to their cause. On the one hand, it surprised Bolt. On the other hand, he knew why they came.

Bren had always had the unique ability of leadership. People followed him regardless of race or prior loyalties. It was why he'd been such a famous commander in the Confederacy. The Gray Ghost had called, and half the galaxy seemed to have answered.

That was why Bren was known as one of the Great Captains of the Confederacy, remembered alongside Durge, Grevious, Sev'erance Tann and Asajj Ventress. These were the five Great Captains of the Confederacy including Bren, and only he remained.

No, that wasn't quite true. Something that had crossed his mind more than once since the wars end, but now pushed to the front. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to add to that number. He'd bring it up next time he talked to Semreh.

_If there is a next time._ He thought grimly. _We'll see._

And with that, the _Darkest_ _Knight _lurched slightly, making the jump to hyperspace, and war.

* * *

Semreh hung there, watching helplessly as the soldiers below shoved and prodded Jenna towards the center of the square. Helpless!

_I failed._ He thought, tears threatening to overwhelm his eyes. _Again! I couldn't protect Audrey, or the rest of the Jedi in the Temple. I couldn't even save myself. _He jerked on his chains despairingly.

Behind him, he could hear Scout struggling against the chains, howling and demanding that Semreh tell her what's happening.

"They're about to execute her." He said listlessly. He just hung there, a corpse in mind.

"We have to do something!" Scout's struggles redoubled as she looked back at Semreh over her shoulder. "Can't you do something? Like, shoot lightening or-"

"Force Lightning won't cut through Beskar." He murmured in monotone, his body slouched. "Besides, there's now way we can escape."

Utter despair permeated through his voice. No, not even despair. Nothing. Just nothing...

"Shut up!" Scout practically screamed in a fury. "Shutupshutupshutup!"

Semreh jerked in surprise as fury rolled through the Force towards him. No, not anger... but single minded determination so strong that it had turned into disgust for Semreh. And yet, Semreh didn't care.

"I'm tired of every battle hardened, experienced person telling me that we're done! We're not!" The struggling had stopped, but the determination remained steeled in her voice. "We're Jedi, and we won't be done until that kriffing Sith is off the throne."

"Now that's where you're wrong Scout." Semreh murmured quietly. "You, me, all of us are just padawans, not Jedi. Not even Jolon's a Jedi, and he's a half a step from being called a senile old goat."

"Give up if you want Semreh," Scout spat angrily, "But before you do, look over the edge. Look down at the girl you're condemning to death by giving up."

Semreh didn't want to look. He didn't. But he had to. Looking over, he saw Jenna, being bound to a stake, flamethrowers surrounding her like packs of predators ready to pounce. And for the first time in a long time, Semreh knew just what to do. In one moment, Scout had brought everything around Semreh into clarity.

Either Jenna was going to die, or Semreh was going to die. He had nothing to lose by fighting now, and protecting an innocent...well, it was what Jedi did.

First, there was the stormtroopers guarding them. Luckily, they'd left his legs unbound. Funny how common beings forgot the Force could be channeled through any limb, even the legs. Semreh swng forward on his chains, kicking out with a powerful Force push that hurled the two in front of him from the church tower. He split his legs then, knocking the remaining two off with a follow up shove of the Force.

"What are you doing!" Scout asked, panicked.

"Winning." Semreh growled. Time for the manacles.

Unfortunately, very little could cut through Beskar. Not even his Electric Judgment Technique taught by Jolon could break it. However...

See, Electric Judgment combined a combination of Force lightning and Force protection/augmentation. The Force lightning was channeled with one arm in a spiral fashion around his arm, creating the necessary energy and speed to give the attack it's excellent penetration and power. Force Augmentation was projected with the other, keeping the lightning from tearing his arm to shreds, as the electricity would otherwise damage him as much as his target.

For Semreh, the technique was still incomplete. He relied on his healing bond with Jolon in order to repair his arm after using the technique. However...

Semreh gritted his teeth, and began the technique. Unable to use both arms, he simply allowed the lightning to channel through his arm unchecked. Without the Force protecting his arms, the lightning ravaged his limbs. The smell of burning flesh filled the air quickly as layer after layer of skin charred and melted away. Muscle and tendons snapped and dissipated, leaving long lines of white bone showing.

Luckily, Semreh's self-immolation had the desired effect of providing enough space between his wrist and the manacle to allow him to slip his arms free.

He fell to the ground with a grunt, cradling his arms as smoke and steam rose off them. But there was no time to rest. Jenna was in trouble. Semreh wasn't going to let another girl die because of his failure. He limped to the edge, Jolon's healing bond already regenerating the muscle he'd burned off.

Looking down, he heard Raam pronounce Jenna's sentence, then step back to let the flames do their work. Semreh took a deep breathe, then let himself lean forward.

He fell, using the Force to angle his fall towards Jenna.

The flames flew forward, biting at Jenna. The wave of heat grew closer and closer. Semreh used the Force to add speed to his fall, beating the flames.

He landed next to Jenna with a burst of the Force, throwing up a bubble around them both. The flames crawled and licked along the Force shield, but did not harm either of them.

Semreh was in what most soldiers called "the zone" now. Adrenaline and survival instincts had kicked in. At that moment, holding back the flames of hell would have been no problem.

As the flames dissipated, Semreh could practically hear the collective gasp from the crowds and soldiers as he and Jenna came into view.

Semreh, ignoring the fact that his arms were pulp, began pulling at the cable binding Jenna to the pole. His fingers fumbled desperately at the cables, but were still numb and healing, mostly raw muscle with a few specks of bone. He looked up, and it seemed every stormtrooper and National Army trooper was aiming a weapon at him.

* * *

In the rapid happenings before them, Elena and Halber were surprised to say the least. Was cold calculating Semreh abandoning caution?

Out of many of the padawans that had fought in the Clone Wars, very few had developed a bond as close as Halber and Elena. Chance and a tendency to complete their missions had seen them teamed up throughout the war, but there was more to it than that. It seemed like the Force itself had made them for each other, like a pair of puzzle pieces.

Elena was aggressive, hyper-lethal, and decisive. A skilled Ataru user, with a grace and natural power to her movements. Her long blond hair fell down her shoulders, and her beauty was noticeable even by the most celibate Jedi. The grace that granted her skill in combat extended to her looks, and she always seemed untouched by carnage on the battlefield. Yet, the war had touched her most of all, awakening a natural ferocity and ruthlessness that many masters had discussed worriedly.

Yet, Halber kept that awakened ruthlessness under control. He was big, tall as well as broad, a step from a master of Soresu. A consummate Jedi at heart, he had questioned the war even while fighting it. He was a moral compass, an anchor for them all, but especially Elena. Even in the Force, they had a bond that extended into battle.

So when Elena realized that one of their old friends was about to be gunned down before them, Halber was already ready to spring forward with her.

She leapt above the crowd in a great leap, while Halber followed drawing his lightsaber. Elena ignited hers midair, landing in a ready stance besides Semreh. He didn't seemed to surprised as he fumbled with Jenna's bindings.

"Way to not think things through." Elena snapped, her saber flashing and freeing Jenna. Semreh caught her.

"You can lecture me later." Semreh growled as Halber arrived, standing back to back with Elena.

"We're with you." Halber said quietly. As always, he was calm, as if in total control of this out of control situation.

"Thanks." Semreh knelt towards Jenna, who seemed to been paralyzed with shock. He couldn't lift her with his arms mangled as they were though. Jolon's healing bond, while effective, still took time.

That left Elena and Halber standing in the middle of the square, surrounded, while trying to defend a wounded comrade and a stunned civilian. And Elena just grinned.

_Why does she always do that?_ Halber thought with a sigh. _Bloody woman._

Laser fire flashed and burned through the air, lances of light hurling towards the two Jedi.

* * *

Bren could never admit to understanding Jedi, let alone how they fought so ill-equipped and armored. Still, he couldn't argue with the results they gave on the battlefield. Bren had seen them fight before, and his standing orders for his Confederate organic troops during the war had always been to avoid engaging them when possible. The Purge had proven they could be killed, but had not diminished their skill in his eyes.

And here, on a square in a backwater planet's largest city, Bren was witnessing that skill. The Jedi moved constantly. Halber's movements were steady and constant. Each swipe of his blade deflected a multitude of bolts and was strategically placed to protect them both.

Elena was pure speed. She was a blur, her blond hair and yellow blade appearing only as a yellow flash. She whirled about Halber, protecting blindsides he couldn't. They were so different, yet they weaved an unbelievable shield of protection that threw every bolt back at the enemy.

At the end of the barrage, the two Jedi were there, their comrades still alive.

Bren was so focused on the Jedi's display of skill and sheer daring before him that he almost didn't notice the old man sidling up to their force cage that held them. Before Bren could say anything, he raised a finger to his mouth, shushing them, and placed a hand on the cage bars.

There was a soft whir as the energy coursing through cage seemed to be siphoned off. A second later, there was the snap and hiss of a lightsaber igniting, and the old man had sliced through the cage bars.

"Hey!" One of the stormtroopers whirled about, his fellows following suite.

Jolon raised his other hand, the energy from the cage coursing through his body, and out the other arm. The flash of electricity that followed threw the line of stormtroopers away, hurling them against one of the barricades. Bren and Sonya rushed forward, relieving the groaning stormtroopers of their blaster rifles.

Years of training kicked in, and the two mercs began leaping from cover to cover, following the old Jedi to the rest of the force cages where the leaders of the rebellion were held.

* * *

Sonya rarely let herself simply be swept away by events, but being locked in a cage watching her own future execution being prepared for her...well, she didn't hesitate. She simply followed Bren, as she always had. He'd saved her live innumerable times, and logic said he'd save her again.

Forcing their way through the crowds of meleeing stormtroopers and rioters should have been difficult, but as they moved troopers seemed to fall even when they weren't blasted by either Bren or her. On closer examination, these stormtroopers had sprouted the characteristic diamond shaped daggers favored by the Kilmaulsi, which they threw with lethal accuracy into the stormtrooper ranks.

Blasting stormtroopers as she advanced, they made their way to the rest of the rebels, but were forced to take cover when a heavy blaster cannon blast obliterated the ground in front of them. The jagged form of a TX-130T hovered through the smoke, it's cannons trained on them all.

_We're dead. _Yet, Sonya didn't really believe it. Even in her mind, the words were calm As absurd and illogical as it seemed, following Bren made her feel invincible.

* * *

A second later, the tank was thrown off it's bottom repulsers, hurled end over backwards through the air as if thrown by the ground itself. In fact, the ground itself had risen to strike the tank, like a massive stone and pavement fist from the ground.

"How-" Bren began, but the old man...Jolon Sonya thought...merely pointed up towards one of the buildings surrounding them. That girl he'd been training, Tara, was standing atop one of the tallest, grinning a wide manic smile. She leapt down, landing besides her Master.

The battlefield in front of the church was chaos. Stormtroopers in tight little squads taking cover and firing wildly into the crowds of now rioting people. The crowds had picked up rubble and gravel from throughout the streets, and were bombarding them ineffectively.

Bren knew something had to be done. Somebody needed to bring, if not order, at least direction. Grabbing the edge of the overturned tank, he hauled himself up on top, using it as platform from which all could see. Including several stormtroopers.

Before he could be shot down, he fired, pegging several of the troopers with bolts before they could fire. And then, Bren did what he did best; led from the front.

"People of Melida/Daan!" He roared, gesturing to the crowd, firing his blaster into the air. Much of the crowd that was not fully embroiled in the riot turned to him. "The Empire has invaded your planet, held in your sacred trust for generations. Years ago, you fought valiantly and ferociously against each other, and have so come to value peace highly."

He gestured behind him towards the church, the planet's monument to its greatest heroine, now silhouetted by the smoke and fire of war. War brought by the Empire.

"Now, the Emperor has terrorized your innocents, burned your city, and declared war on Cerasi herself!" Bren punctuated his words by raising his blaster rifle high above his head. Will you simply allow it!"

The roar that answered him changed the tide of battle. The crowd, no longer content with throwing simple stones, surged forward, battering the armored troopers with sticks, rubble, and even their fists. Not only that, but it seemed that many of the National Army soldiers had had enough, and from their vantage points on the buildings around the battlefield, began turning their slugthrower rifles on their former allies.

Bren leapt down, urging on the wave of soldiers and civilians, leading them into the line of white plastoid armor. The Twenty-Seventh Battle of Zehava had begun.

* * *

Scout of course, was not to be left out of any fight. Mere moments after Semreh's rather explosive exit, she had begun working the shackles holding her wrist. Using the left shackle for leverage, she pulled hard on her right arm, until the ring of metal had pressed itself up against her thumb.

Then, with a small twitch and gritted teeth, Scout popped her thumb out of her socket.

She gasped in pain, but the shackle slid over the limp thumb, letting her slide the rest of her hand out. Gritting her teeth again, Scout pulled against her other restraint now, popping that shackle off. Her hands and wrists were bloody and raw, but she was free. Sitting on her hands, Scout expertly popped her thumbs back into place and stood up, panting.

The square below was on fire. Hovertanks fired, blasting holes into the boiling mass of both stormtroopers and rioters. In the middle of it all, Scout glimpsed the occasional flash of lightsabers leading the riots.

_Got to get down there._

Scout practically sprinted down the stairs, her hands sliding along the walls of the staircase, helping her balance. Near the bottom, she almost collided head on with one of three stormtroopers standing guard at the bottom.

Scout reacted instantaneously. A swift, three fingered jab to the lightly padded necking the man wore beneath his helmet prevented him from shouting for help. As the stormtrooper doubled over, Scout, drew the man's sidearm from his munitions belt, firing two quick shots at the troopers companions, hitting both in the legs. A third shot, set to stun, knocked out her first opponent out cold.

She stepped over his limp body, relieving him of his E-11 Blaster rifle and stunning the other two with two casual shots from his pistol. All of them were unconscious, not dead. It was then that Scout saw what they'd been guarding. Her gear plus Semreh's lay on a table. She recognized a couple small tracking devices besides them, as though they were in the process of being attached.

"Clever." She murmured, picking up her weapons and strapping the wrist-launcher on beneath her robes. She pocketed Semreh's lightsaber, feeling that he'd need it before the end of the day.

As she exited the massive church, Scout stayed to the edges, avoiding the combination of civilians seeking refuge and stormtroopers rushing towards the fight outside.

* * *

It was less a battle and more a furious melee. Soldiers on both sides struggled to control the rooftops, while the civilian but furious Meldia/Daan fought back with everything they had. And in the middle of it all, was Semreh.

He was looking over the body of that girl, Jenna, checking for injuries. She seemed to be unharmed, but had fainted from shock. A couple yards away, Elena and Halber were involved in a whirling, lightning fast duel with Inquisitor Raam, but there was nothing Semreh could do to help them now, disarmed as he was. His arms were healing, but slowly.

The Force was screaming at him, warning him that this Inquisitor was a great threat, someone that could unravel the rebellion before it was born, but Semreh was too injured do do anything about it. One way or the other thought, Semreh knew, deep down, that that man needed to die. And so, he would kill him.

_**I hope you all enjoyed it! Please Read and Review!**_


	83. Chapter 83

**_The battle in Zehava comes to a close and the War with the Empire begins_**

The battle had swung away from the Empire. That was clear to Raam now. Fighting these two young Jedi, though tiring, was not particularly difficult. After all, Raam had trained for years to fight Jedi specifically, while these Jedi were used to fighting many blaster wielding enemies.

That said, Raam was losing. His robe had several burnt gashes from where their sabers had come just a little too close, and his right leg twinged with a small bruise that blond Jedi had inflicted on him.

Around him, the stormtroopers were evacuating or being overwhelmed. Survivors boarded shuttles, fleeing. He even glimpsed Admiral Amistad slinking away, covered by an honor guard of the mercenaries the Empire had hired.

_Coward_. Raam growled in his head, meeting the male Jedi's downward swing with a horizontal parry. There would be a reckoning with that one...If Raam managed to escape with his life that was.

Still, the Inquisitor had one last card to play. Grabbing his comlink, he contacted the _Regal_ in orbit above, fighting his two opponents one handed.

"_Regal_! Come in _Regal_!"

Static, then...

"We copy Inquisitor. Status?"

"Our position has been compromised. Zehava is overrun. We need close tactical air support or long-range precision turbolaser fire to hold this city back."

The com operator was silent for a moment before answering.

"Ehh, that's a negative Inquisitor. Orbital surveillance suggests unknown Triple AAA in your vicinity, and long-range turbolasers will not penetrate the planetary shield."

Raam cursed, ducking a vicious slash from blondie that had been meant for his head. He whirled, making a clawing motion with his hand. The Force surged, and blondie was hurled away. Her male partner roared, charging him with a series of one-two maneuvers, pushing him back in a furry.

"Get me Forte!" Raam snapped.

"Forte here."

Raam almost started at how quickly the admiral had answered. Clearly, he'd been listening.

"Forte, we need that air support to clear space for a breakout."

"And I'm telling you, all assets are currently unavailable."

"What if the shield went down in this city?"

More silence. Why the hell was everyone so quiet up there?

"That could work." Forte admitted. "Intel has one of the shield generators being located in the sewers beneath Zehava. It won't be in time to prevent the strike force from being overwhelmed though."

"Then blow Zehava into slag after the remnants evacuate." Raam ordered. "We can behead this rebellion here if we do that."

"Copy that Inquisitor." Forte sounded distressed at the virtual decimation of the strike force, but what could be done. "Bring that shield down, and we'll be in business."

"Copy that. Raam out."

* * *

Semreh watched as the Inquisitor, amazingly, dueled Elena and Halber to a standstill. Elena was still recovering from the powerful blast of Force energy he'd used to hurl her away, and Halber was neither winning, nor losing.

However, he clearly did not expect what happened next. The Inquisitor retreated, suddenly sprinting towards the rioters and stormtroopers.

_No...not towards them. _Semreh thought grimly, getting to his feet.

Using the Force, the Inquisitor hurled open one of the many hatchways dotting the street that led to the sewers below, and leapt inside. Halber deactivated his saber, rushing to help Elena to her feet.

"We need to stop him." A voice said behind Semreh.

The young padawan whirled about, seeing Nield step forward. His white suite was rumpled and dirty, but what else was new. Behind him, his Chasers kept a constant vigil.

"The sewers follow the power grid," Nield explained, "Meaning-"

"Meaning he could deactivate the shield generators for the whole section of the planet Zehava protects." Fless finished grimly. He had a heavy gash on his forhead, but hadn't seemed to have lost his cocky stride.

"Damn it!" Semreh stood painfully. He was healed, but the ordeal had clearly taken a toll on him.

"Halber!" Semreh called to his friend, who was checking Elena for concussion. "I need your lightsaber."

"No need." Another voice said. Scout was approaching, looking flustered but otherwise uninjured. And, she had his lightsaber. She gently tossed it to him.

"Good." Semreh activated it, checking that the forest green blade worked. "I'm going after him."

"So am I." Scout interjected.

"No, I don't think-"

"You saw him take on two Jedi at once, and you think you can take him alone?" Scout snorted and brushed past Semreh. "Come on."

Semreh was about to argue, but then simply shrugged, and followed Scout into the dark.

* * *

Though the passages of the sewers were faintly lit, seeing anything was rapidly becoming a problem, even with lightsabers. The air seemed to be suffocating them, clouding air and absorbing every ounce of light. Add to that the smell, and it was clearly another glorious day in the life of a Jedi.

Yet, despite the difficulties in tracking they should have been having in the smoggy underworld of Zehava, Scout was leading them through with no apparent difficulty. She was tracking the Inquisitor without any apparent difficulty or hesitation.

When Semreh had asked Scout how she knew where to find this man, Scout explained that she'd recently learned from a long dead ancestor how to track people through the Force by their Force signature alone. And Semreh, having learned long ago not to question the absolute insanity of his life, just went with it.

It wasn't long before the deep catacombs of sewers and ancient tombs widened, leading them to one of the main power grids for the city, and revealing the massive shield generator. The generator itself was a massive lump rising from the ground of a massive, hollowed out cavern. The structure surrounding it was full of narrow walkways and the machinery that clearly kept the whole city running. Somewhere down below it all, the geothermic energy of the planet churned the power station's turbines.

The power substation near by sparked and crackled with massive spurts of energy. And standing in front of it all, his saber still ignited and ready, was Raam.

The Inquisitor stood ready, his saber making a quick salute so prevalent in the second form of combat. Dooku's form. A form for killing Jedi.

Scout and Semreh split from each other, flanking the man. They said nothing. No banter, no witty mockery. Just Jedi and Inquisitor, ready to die.

* * *

Scout leapt first, twirling through the air, bringing the full force of a double handed strike on the Inquisitor's blade. Raam simply stepped back, allowing her saber to make a glancing blow on his parry. By now, Semreh had advanced, and began a rapid series of slashes and feints meant to knock the Inquisitor off balance, but Raam simply counterattacked, forcing Semreh to abandon his attack.

Scout and Semreh attempted to coordinate their attacks, but they were simply unused to fighting with each other. Whenever they both struck, Raam simply used position and his own lightning quick strategy to block and back them both into positions where they impeded each other.

The sight of these stumbling Jedi might have amused Raam on any other day, but today had been hard on him. His limbs ached, and no amount of Force energy could compensate for the painful injuries, however minor, that he'd endured throughout the day. This needed to end soon.

Raam turned a particularly skillful leaping stab from Scout into a disarmament technique, but was received only a lightsaber pommel to the jaw in return. Raam staggered backwards, and was nearly beheaded by a slash from Semreh.

_That was too close._

Raam needed this fight to end. Resorting back to the trickery of his youth, Raam spun away from Scout. Of the two, it was obvious to him that her blade work was superior. Raam struck downwards towards Semreh, battering away at his defenses, but it was only a distraction, for when Raam's other hand came up, it was holding a blaster.

Raam fired, hitting Semreh. Though it was only a glancing blow, the burst of heated energy and gas still scorched his thigh, forcing him to stumbled backwards. In that moment of distraction, Raam tore through the young Jedi's mental defenses and sent him flying backwards with a flick of his wrist.

_Now for the gir- _Was about as far as Raam's thought got before he turned, and was greeted by what he suspected was the sole of Scout's boot. It was, in fact, the sole of her boot, and was soon followed by the rest of her foot, bashing his face aside in a high kick.

Raam tumbled backwards, cursing loudly. Howling, he raised a hand to hurl Scout backwards with the Force, but the young girl was to fast. She raised her right hand, firing the cable launcher attachment from her wrist. The cable wrapped firmly around Raam's wrist, and with a swift jerk, Scout pulled the Inquisitor down to one knee.

Scout grinned. She had him now. Activating the retractor for the cable, Scout pulled the cable back into the wrist launcher, bringing Raam's sword arm with it. She caught his arm and, with a deft twist, forced him to drop his lightsaber. Desperately, Raam reached out with his other hand, a blaster aimed at her heart.

Scout snarled, cocked her other fist back, and threw her whole body into a bunch that snapped Raam's head back. Blood spurted from the Inquisitor's nose, and he fell back, panting. Scout stepped forward, and raised her blade so it quivered just centimeters from his throat.

"Kill him."

Scout looked at Semreh with surprise. Her fellow Jedi had risen to his feet, saber activated and humming bright green energy.

"Kill him now." Semreh insisted quietly.

Scout, still breathing heavily, looked down at the helpless Inquisitor. Then she shook her head.

"He's our prisoner. Jedi don't kill prisoners."

"He's an Inquisitor." Semreh argued. "He'd kill us all if he had the chance."

Scout opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted.

"He's right." Raam snarled, clenching and unclenching his fist. "At the first chance I get, I'll betray you all. Kill every last one of you Jedi traitors."

"But why?" Scout looked down at him. "I'm offering you the chance to live. To change back from your dark path."

"Dark path?" The Inquisitor laughed painfully, blood streaming down his face. "Is that what you think serving Palpatine is like?"

"Palpatine opened my eyes to the galaxy. He gave me purpose after the Jedi abandoned me to the galaxy. He put me on a path, a path to greatness."

Scout shivered at the words of the fanatic beneath him. What could inspire such loyalty?

"He took me when nobody else would. He took me, trained me, gave me power, and let me prove to everybody that I am more than just a screw-up. And if dying to ensure his dream of a peaceful galaxy comes true is my fate, very well."

And that's when Scout looked down, and saw not a defeated enemy, or an Inquisitor willing to hunt them across the galaxy. She saw herself, lying there, hair sprawled about, absolute devotion in her eyes. And Scout realized...Raam was her. Her, if she'd given in to despair.

Scout would have lain down her life for her master. Since both her master's deaths, not a day had gone by that she had not wish she had. If she could go back and exchange her life for any of the deaths that had been her fault, she would have. Raam, like her, was a victim of loyalty.

* * *

Semreh knew then that Scout wouldn't do it. She was a different person, unused to killing and death. Semreh and Elena had spent months on the battlefield, and even Halber rarely feared to take a life. But when Scout held that blade to Raam's neck, Semreh saw real fear in her eyes for the first time.

She was a liability. She'd never killed. That needed to change.

"Stand aside Scout." Semreh's voice had changed. It was no longer reasoning or diplomatic. It was cold. It was steel. "Stand aside and let me do what must be done."

"No."

"Scout-"

"I said no Semreh!" Scout's eyes flashed up to Semreh. Semreh, the Jedi Padawan Hero. Semreh, the Master Strategist and Prodigy. Semreh, one of a whole generation of padawans raised on the battlefield. Semreh, a Jedi walking the edge between light and dark.

"You kill your enemies." Semreh's eyes seemed to harden even more, if that was possible. "There's us, and there's them. That's the way a battle works Scout. If you can't learn to take a life, you can't expect to save any in this war."

Scout looked back at the Inquisitor, hoping to find something in the man's eyes to counteract Semreh's logic, but there was only hate. Pure hate. Then, a premonition. A gift from the Force.

The Inquisitor's fallen lightsaber snapped from the ground, flying towards the man's hand. He caught it with a grin, ignited it, and swung.

Scout reacted instantly. Her left hand was a blur, already activating the second lightsaber at her belt, parrying the Inquisitor's red beam a lightning bolt of orange fire.

The Inquisitor rolled away, coming up in a fighting stance, his saber already flashing towards Scout's unprotected neck, only to be intercepted by a flash of green wielded by Semreh.

The two of them advanced on Raam, their sabers forming a web of blue, orange and green light around his red flame. But nothing they did seemed to penetrate. When Semreh rolled to the right, unleashing a bolt of pure lightning at the Inquisitors legs, it was only to be thrown head over heels by a Force hurled piece of masonry torn from the wall.

And so, it was just Scout and the Inquisitor. For several long minutes, they whirled about, trading lightsaber blows. She advanced, relying purely on her reflexes and maneuvers trained into her from birth. Her blue and orange sabers came down like hammers. One. Step. Two. Step.

She was a machine.

Raam was in retreat. Desperately, he tried to grapple with Scout. A mistake. She countered with a closed backhand that sent him spinning backwards. He turned the spin into a backhanded slash towards her face.

Scout's sabers flashed forward, a blind strike guided purely by an animal instinct of survival. Her sabers crossed each other like a pair of opening scissors, throwing sparks into the air, and severing the Inquisitor's lightsaber hilt.

The metal fell to the stone in two smoking pieces, clattering loudly in the quiet cavern.

Semreh's motion was a mere flicker, and then he seemed to just appear behind Raam. He placed his left hand on Raam's left shoulder, and held the man in place as he raised his leaf green blade.

"You're done Inquisitor." Semreh snarled, thinking of every dead Jedi, the massacre in the Temple, on Naboo, and even in the mines of Kessel. "You're dead, and the galaxy's a better place without you."

"Not yet." Raam held still, his mind clearly racing, searching for a way out. "I have my own dreams I need to fulfill. Palpatine's orders."

Semreh paused for a moment, reversing the handle of his blade so it was held pointed down, almost like a dagger. A classic reverse Shien grip. He raised the weapon, a spear of light hovering inches from the man's back.

"To have dreams Raam, you need a future. You don't."

With that, Semreh slammed the lightsaber down, ramming it through to the hilt. The blade burned through he Inquisitor's chest rising out from his sternum. With a flick of his wrist, Semreh twisted the blade, slicing it back out, and tearing it through the Inquisitor's right side, leaving a gaping slash.

And with that, Inquisitor Raam died.

* * *

Scout almost felt rather than heard the Inquisitor's body slump to the floor, his limbs twitching with some remnant of life. There was a squelching sound that made her sick to her stomach as the massive gash in his side spilled some small remnants of fluid. Lightsabers mostly cauterized wounds they caused, but only mostly.

"This is what war is." Semreh didn't sound like he was really talking to anyone as he stared down at the corpse. "Kill or be killed." He looked up at Scout. "And until you accept that, you're just a liability."

Scout didn't say anything. She couldn't. The shock and anger she felt was too much, and if she let all that out...she couldn't say what she'd do.

Instead, she just turned, leading the way back to the surface.

"Come on." She said quietly. "The others will be waiting."


	84. Chapter 84 Great Captains

**_Another Chapter. Another huge part for Scout is coming up, as you'll see._**

**_I Know some of you were expecting a huge space battle, but it'll have to wait. Sorry..._**

The scene back on the surface was not that of a victorious army. Bodies were piled in the streets of Zehava, mere feet away from it's monument of it's greatest martyr for peace. Nield, overlooking the scene as he organized the rebels and his Chasers, couldn't help but feel a great pang of regret that it'd come to this.

The stormtroopers were gone, retreating in a combination of shuttles and tanks to positions outside the city. The battle had been costly for them, but they were still an extremely dangerous force, especially in the countryside. Nield had sent orders to the militia groups forming in these areas to try to intercept them. He doubted they'd succeed.

Above them, the Imperial Star Destroyer _Regal_ still hovered, it's weapons trained on them all, ready to obliterate the rebellion. But not for much longer...

* * *

Admiral Forte stood, apparently calm before the viewport from the bridge of the _Regal_. Inside though, he was a bundle of nerves. The situation on the ground had clearly deteriorated, According to the sporadic reports he was receiving, about half of their highly trained strike force had been caught up in the riot in Zehava, and the remnants were retreating in shuttles and armored transports to the countryside.

Forte was sure they'd reorganize there. They were stormtroopers after all, and Amistad was still alive (though Forte considered that less of a boon).

The question was what the fleet would do now. Forte had a responsibility to the the ships under his command, but he also needed to ensure that the situation on Melida/Daan did not escalate.

It was then that the sensor alarms for the _Regal_ began to screech across the bridge.

"Unknown contacts have just exited hyperspace in grid seven-oh-nine." The sensor officer reported calmly from the command deck. "Beginning detailed scan..."

"Power up turbolaser banks one through four." Forte said, snapping off orders to his officers. "Communications, signal all ships to main battle stations."

The small fleet Forte had under his command was not necessarily deadly, but it was modern. Three _Carrack_-class frigates and four Tartan-class patrol cruisers would not make much of a dent in any force, but the sheer mass and tonnage of the _Imperial_-Class Star destroyer _Regal _could ravage entire fleets.

But as more and more ships leapt from hyperspace before them, Forte felt a cold chill. This wasn't just a fleet. It was an armada.

"I count fourteen _Invincible_-Class warships." The ensign at the sensor station reported. "Along with...unknown numbers of smaller ships. Fighters, frigates...Stars! I think there's a couple yachts in there as well."

"The enemy appears to be throwing everything at us." Forte's young second in command, and technically the actual captain of the _Regal_, said drily. "We could take down maybe three or four of those Invincible-Class, but this..."

"Orders Admiral Forte?" The Communications officer asked.

"Give the order for a staggered retreat. Small cruisers first, the _Regal_ last. Rally point beta-nine-eight. All ships begin-"

"Brace! Brace!" The alarm sounded throughout the ship.

Forte grabbed one of the many lines of crash webbing, holding tight as the impacts of what he expected were torpedos shook the ship.

"Begin the retreat now!" Forte commanded.

The officer nodded and began relaying the orders, but he had to be stinging on the inside. The officers of the Imperial navy took pride in their ships and battle record. Retreating like this went against every instinct they had.

But Forte knew war. He knew the Imperial Navy could defeat this rebel fleet, but they needed reinforcements. For themselves, and for the troops on the ground. For that, he needed Imperial High Command.

"When we exit hyperspace," Forte added to the communications officer, "Establish contact with Coruscant."

* * *

In the heat of the moment, the retreat of the Imperial fleet seemed anti-climatic to Drex Oodian. The Jedi's fleet had spread out, establishing a perimeter around the Melida/Daan system. Ships from different factions were kept together, separated to avoid any infighting.

A couple hundred shuttles were now in the process of ferrying the Jedi's burgeoning army planet-side to a rally point outside of Zehava. The city had become the unofficial figurehead of the rebellion. Most of those shuttles though would be needed back in orbit. Drex would need every ship he had to repel whatever force the Imperials brought to strike back at him.

The army was ready. Semreh had all his pieces on the board, and for once, he was feeling pretty confident. On many planets throughout the Outer Rim, cells of peoples loyal to the Jedi were fighting back. On Jabiim, Ryloth, Sullust, and doezens of other worlds, resistance cells that had sworn to support the Jedi had risen up, inflicting crippling strikes on the infrastructure of these worlds.

The reports were coming in, and Semreh was pleased. As were most of the rebels.

"These disruptions in the Imperial supply chains will allow the Confederacy's remnants to reorganize and perhaps regain lost ground." Said the Muun Pors Tonith in that slimey voice so common amongst his kind. "Perhaps even lead to a resurrgence."

"This is not your Confederacy Tonith." Zozridor Slayke practically spat at the admiral, his oldest foe. "This is a revolution to restore the Republic."

"Why though?" Halber mused from his corner in the back of the war room. "The Republic chose to stop being a Republic. Can we change it's mind?"

"Maybe we make it change it's mind." Elena snapped. "We didn't fight for the Republic just to let it kill itself."

Had he said pleased? Right. That's what Semreh was. But the squabbling was wearing him down.

"The Republic chose to die." A Rodian commando agreed. "Yet, this rebellion cannot continue without support from traitors within the Empire. Namely, individual Senators."

"Has the Rodian Senator Onaconda Farr been contacted?" A Koorivar commander challenged. "My Fusiliers are here to fight, yet was has Rodia committed to the fray?"

"Our scouts and hunters are the best there is-"

"And a fat lot that will do when the Empire bombs us from space!" The Koorivar shot back. A few of his fellow Confederate commanders grumbled in agreement. "What we need is support from people whose planets aren't in ruin. You won't get that from us and former Confederates."

"The fleet we have should be sufficient for now." Bren said in a calming tone. He was the leader of this little group after all. "And all support, even unofficial support, is welcome." He directed those last couple words at the disgruntled Confederates.

"What we need now," Semreh began, "Is to solidify our position on Melida/Daan and turn this planet into a major drain on Imperial resources. This will give other planets an opportunity, and show them that the Empire can be fought successfully."

"The Trade Federation has been scattered, but I'm sure our remnants will reunite if promised safety and a return to power." The Nemoidian Admiral/representative explained.

"The remnants of the Trade Federation were already thoroughly smashed at Enarc, yes? There is therefore very little for you to contribute now, with your company nationalized and your assets seized."

"There's still our personal wealth and fleets." The Nemoidian snapped back. A human commander from Corellia, Talor, laughed.

"This is a fresh change of pace; The Trade Federation the one that's bankrupt." There were assorted chuckles at the table, but Bren brought them to an end with on loud smash of his fist on the table.

"None of this matters, and if you all insist on falling into petty infighting, we may as well surrender to the Empire now."

Awkward and embarrassed silence filled the room.

"We can draw the Empire down here. They'll have to each of the shield generators if they want to open Melida/Daan to aerial and planetary bombardment." Bren activated the holo-projector in the middle of the war room. "Which means that to open certain sections, they'll need to take certain positions."

"Three of the southernmost shield generators are heavily fortified in mountains here, here and here." Daichi took over, briefing them on the locations. "Zehava is in the middle, and so forms the center of the umbrella. In the North, we the shield generators are all either hidden underground, or located in the city Vandom."

His fingers trailed across a sprawling mass of buildings located on an open plain. The city straddled a massive river, and was clearly a trade center. Millions of people probably lived in that city.

"There." Semreh said, standing. "The Empire will strike there. It's on the edge of the shield's perimeter, and is a primary supply center for our forces."

Bren nodded. "Not to mention that a city can only be so easily defended with a population that large. We'll need to start deploying troops there immediately."

"The Militia can rally at least two million soldiers from the local groups. They'll be poorly trained and armed though." Nield looked to Bren expectantly.

"I will personally reinforce them with our most experienced troops." Bren promised. "We'll draw the Empire into battle there and trap them. With their troops spread so thin, perhaps we can force them to come to terms."

"Alright." Semreh stood alongside Bren, clearly saying the meeting was done. "I need to see Bren, Jolon, Scout, Bolt, and Daichi. The rest of you, ready your troops."

* * *

Optimism was high in the rebel camp. Maybe they weren't exactly happy, but things were looking up. As the group Semreh had asked for approached, he saw exactly the expressions he'd expected on their faces.

Bren, ever confident and encouraging. Jolon, calculating and inquisitive. Bolt and Daichi equal parts professional and curious. Neither had had much personal dealings with Semreh. And Scout. She looked confused, worried, elated, and everything in between. She was a storm of emotion in the Force.

Semreh waved Jolon and Bren forward to talk privately with him.

"Jolon, I want you to go with Bren on this one."

This made both jerk in surprise.

"We can field over a million soldiers." Bren assured Semreh. "One more man, even a Jedi, will make little difference."

"And I believe I am most needed here." Jolon argued. "I've been experimenting on some new tools and devices that I think-"

Semreh raised his hand to stop the old man. "I know what you think, but it's time we put some of your experiments to work. Think of it as a trial run."

Jolon fumed for a moment or two, but then relented. "Very well, but I will take Tara with me. If only to help her continue to control her powers."

"How are things on that front?" Semreh asked curiously. Jolon sighed.

"She's fine, but still loses control from time to time. And when she does, the results can be catastrophic."

Semreh winced slightly. He knew what Jolon was saying. Tara's telekinetic and terrakinetic abilities may be a liability. He almost immediately began questioning sending Tara to the front line.

"Just be careful." Was all he said though before they left.

"Daichi." The man approached to within earshot.

"Jedi Semreh." He said with a bow.

"I want a comprehensive list of our resistance cells off planet. Also, set up a system so they can update us on their progress."

"Yes sir." Daichi left, but his walk seemed stiff. Perhaps Semreh couldn't rely on the Chasers as much as he thought. They were only loyal to Nield after all...another thought for another time.

Scout hurried forward without being asked. She squared her shoulders to his, glaring into his eyes.

"I want you off the front lines." Semreh ordered before she could say anything. Scout jerked like she'd been struck.

"What are you talking about!" Scout's green eyes flashed dangerously.

"Until you learn to deal with things like war, you're more a danger than a benefit to anyone around you." Semreh turned, ignoring her for a moment to watch the camp. "Besides, I'm giving similar orders to all the Jedi. We're too few."

"Are you joking?" Her mouth thinned dangerously. "Semreh, I could even beat you if I wanted to. What makes you think-"

"This isn't a game Scout!" Semreh barked, practically yelling. "Every enemy you refuse to kill becomes a danger for someone else. I can't order you to not fight, but I want you to consider the consequences of what your pacifism will do out there."

When Scout said nothing, Semreh continued. "The Empire's not full of nice stormtroopers handing out hugs and food to refugees. This is an army designed to put down rebels brutally and without mercy. If you can't do the same, you can't fight."

Again, Scout said nothing. She merely turned on her heel and left, her robes snapping at her ankles as she did.

"Harsh." Bolt commented, sidling up to Semreh.

"But necessary."

"No arguments here."

"Bren said you wanted to speak with me."

"Yes."

The merc wordlessly pulled a holoprojector from his pocket, and activated it. The image that rose was of a woman Semreh knew. A woman he knew very well in fact...

* * *

Scout was still grinding her teeth a few hours later when her comlink beeped, signaling that she was needed back in the war room. Around her, the troops of the rebels were moving out. Most of them were human militia men, wearing uniform long coats and warm clothes because of the coming winter. Ill trained farmers and average people. But Bren's troops added professionalism and diversity to make up for it.

Clearly, Bren had expanded his original group of surviving two-thousand mercenaries into an army of well-trained and ready rebels. Not only that, they brought a plethora of crawlers and light vehicles. Most were not as advanced as hovertanks and modern Imperial tech, but they were ready.

Bren meant to hold Vandom at all costs, throwing much of their militia and best trained troops into the fight. Somewhere out there, the remaining Imperial troopers were regrouping, and all though their ships overhead had been driven off, reinforcements were coming.

And here Scout was, stuck behind the lines.

* * *

Semreh hadn't left the war room for hours, and was still looking over the various maps and battle strategies with Bren, Sonya, and Bolt. But he was getting tired, and it showed. Finally, he called a quick break on their planning, leaving the room.

When outside, he saw Elena hanging around, talking fervently with Tara. The lithe blond saw Semreh approaching, smiled, and said a few quick ending words to Elena before leaving. Elena laughed heartily and nodded before turning to meet Semreh.

"Meeting over?"

"A break." Semreh responded, watching Tara's retreating back. Elena leaned in with an interested look.

"Hmmmm..." She hummed with a smile. "See something you like?"

Semreh caught himself, shaking his head and clearing his throat.

"Ah, no..." Semreh turned to her. "Soooo, Elena...You're a girl right?"

"I am? That's news. When did that happen?"

"Um, I mean...I just wanted some advice." Semreh sputtered, suddenly nervous. "About talking-"

"I'd start by being less of an ass. Particularly to Scout." Semreh met Elena's glare, his personality icing over.

"I'm pulling all the Jedi off the front lines." Semreh explained. "Not just Scout."

"And who decided you give the Jedi orders?" Elena crossed her arms angrily. "Besides, Tara and Jolon are apparently deploying."

"Technically, they're not Jedi." Semreh argued evasively. "And we need every Jedi we can to survive. We'll be working behind the scenes-"

"By the Force! You're using them." Elena looked at Semreh, horror creeping onto her face. "You're using Tara and Jolon as weapons! You're sending them to the front so we don't fight!"

"I'm sending Tara to the front so she can get experience." Semreh countered, but Elena had had enough.

"Whatever you're feeling for Tara, using her as a weapon like this will only end badly."

"She's too powerful to leave out of this, and she doesn't have the diplomatic skill of a Jedi." Semreh shrugged. "This just makes sense."

Elena stared, dumbfounded. "Are you, seriously, just trying to be difficult? You never used to be this...dark."

"People change."

"No kidding." Elena opened her mouth to continue arguing, but stopped when the doors to the war room opened again, leading in Bolt and Scout.

Bolt stopped and saluted briefly before continuing his characteristic slouch. Scout just glared.

"You called?" Scout's voice was as icy as her stare.

"We have a situation and an opportunity that Bolt has brought to my attention." Semreh nodded to Bolt. He stepped forward, activating the holoprojector used for briefings.

"Bren and Sonya are leading the army north to Vandom, and most of our minor commanders and units are spreading out to cover the rest of the shield generators. The majority of the world is under our control, if only because they know there's no going back from here."

Bolt pressed a small switch, changing the holoprojector from a map of the planet, to a smaller image of what had become known as the Great Captains of the Confederacy.

The bounty hunter Durge. Centuries old murderer of Jedi, Sith, and even Mandalorians. A Gen'Dai with limitless regenerative powers, he fought for much of the Clone Wars and massacred the Gungan colonies of Omah-D'un. He was killed by Skywalker when ambushing them in the Karthakk system. Launched into a star.

Next to him was Sev'erance Tann. An unknown species, she trained under Count Dooku as Dark Acolyte and led much of the early fighting in the Clone Wars, including leading the rearguard fight on Geonosis...where she killed one of Semreh's old comrades Stam Reath. More important than her skills as a fighter though was her ability as a general. Much of the early success of the Confederacy was attributed to her brilliance. She was killed a month into the war on Krant, by the great Jedi Master Echuu-Shen Jon.

Her brilliance was succeeded by Grievous. Conquerer of Duros, of Hypori, the droid general of the droid army. Famous for his cruelty and ruthlessness, but equally famous for results. Over thirty Jedi killed by his hand, including prominent council members. Killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi at the battle of Utapau.

Then there was there own Bren. A mercenary turned patriot. He joined the Confederacy as a job and stayed on as a man prone to joining hopeless causes. Known as the Grey Ghost, he and his men struck hammer blows to the Republic in an endless series of raids and battles. Men flocked to him, drawn by charisma and the promise of glory. They were not disappointed.

Finally, Asajj Ventress. Not superior to any of the Great Captains, but somehow seperate. She had the acumen of Sev'erance Tann, the skill of Grievous, and, some would say more importantly, a skill in the Force deeper than most Jedi knights. Wielding her twin sabers, she terrorized the Jedi Order itself for much of the war, amassing a kill ratio that kept Padawans awake at night. She was Dooku's chosen successor. His prodigy. And she, unlike most of her comrades, was never confirmed dead.

**_Thank you all for reading and Reviewing!_**


	85. Chapter 85 A New Mission

**_Chapter 85! Please Enjoy!_**

Semreh watched carefully as Scout's face fell at the sight of her former master's murderer. The holoimage of the Five Great Captains of the Confederacy hovered before them mockingly.

"As you know, we need leaders for this rebellion. Bren has already joined us, and it's widely believed that most of his compatriots died during the war." Bolt pressed another button, and the hologram brought Asajj up to a life-sized image. "However, this is not entirely true."

Bolt then stepped aside, letting Semreh step forward. He did so, his arms feeling heavy.

"In the last days of the Clone Wars my master and I worked closely with clone intelligence operatives tracking down the last leaders of the Confederacy. Officially, Asajj was believed dead. She was supposedly betrayed by Count Dooku during the Battle of Boz Pity and, according to reports from both Skywalker and Kenobi, mortally wounded before giving them a cryptic warning to protect Coruscant."

"An ironically fair piece of advice." Elena commented. Semreh nodded. He'd almost forgotten she was there.

"True. A few months later, Coruscant was raided by Grievous. However," Semreh continued, "That is not the end of the story."

"What do you mean?" Scout asked, her heart skipping a beat.

"Reports were falsified that she was buried on Coruscant." Semreh explained. "Primarily due to what many saw as Kenobi's dangerous obsession with bringing Ventress to justice."

"I remember my master talking about it." Elena added. "He spent what little leave he had chasing leads across the galaxy."

"What happened Semreh?" Scout's eyes were focused on him, her voice had gone low and dangerous. "She'd dead. She died on Boz Pity. Everyone in the Temple talked about it."

Semreh shook his head. "The med runner she was placed on, the _Bright Flight, _disappeared soon afterwards, along with many wounded clones. It remains unaccounted for."

* * *

Scout felt the room spin. She was alive. Asajj Ventress was alive. Alive and probably laughing at how she'd duped the Order. At how she'd murdered so many, caused so much pain, and survived it all.

Scout fell backwards, leaning heavily against a wall, letting her body slide to the ground. She barely felt Elena's comforting hand on her shoulder.

"We need leaders." Bolt continued. "I knew Asajj personally. She was a brilliant fighter, if somewhat unpredictable. More importantly," He paused for a moment, looking Semreh in the eye, "She and I are from the same planet."

Semreh squinted slightly, as if seeing Bolt for the first time. "You're a Rattataki?"

Bolt nodded. "I left my homeworld after Asajj united the planet under her rule. There wasn't any need for child soldiers after that."

"No!" Scout stood up suddenly, furious energy animating her as the reality of what Semreh was suggesting reached her. "We are not doing this!"

Semreh stared her down. "If you wish to fight in this rebellion, you will obey orders." The Jedi turned to Bolt. "You and Scout will travel to Rattatak, and find her."

"I will not!"

Semreh whirled on his fellow padawan. "Do you or do you not have the ability to track people in the Force?"

"I-I...That doesn't mean we should recruit her!"

"Scout, you are one of the few Jedi who has been close enough to Ventress to get a feel for her Force signature. Have you forgotten it? Could you track it!"

The red haired girl shuddered slightly. No, she hadn't forgotten, and she never would. That pure, seething mass of power, as if it was filth and bile and anger given form. No, she would remember that feeling till the day she died.

"Scout, we need soldiers. We need Ventress."

Scout glowered, tears welling up in her eyes. Tears of anger, of pure, uncontrollable rage. At that moment, Semreh was reasonably sure she was going to strike him down then and there. From behind him, he could sense Elena's disapproval.

"You will bring her back here. Alive." He directed the last word specifically at Scout.

Scout said nothing. She left unable to control her emotions any longer.

Semreh sighed heavily, expecting to turn around to a furious Elena. Instead though, Elena looked...sad.

"You're a cruel man brother."

She rarely called him that, never being the most formal of the Jedi. It was a testimony to her disapproval.

He shook his head. Pragmatic. That's what he was. Scout needed to learn to kill, or they needed someone who would. A win-win situation.

"Go, keep an eye on Jolon." He said to Elena. "I want him followed."

"You don't trust him."

"I don't trust anyone." Semreh said with a snort. "Good luck."

Elena turned to leave, murmuring a small, "May the Force be with you," As she did.

* * *

Semreh now turned to Bolt, and found the soldier leaning casually against the wall, his long barreled rifle slung over a shoulder.

"You don't approve?"

He shook his head. "I'm just a soldier. I decided long ago that opinions were meaningless. I simply execute the mission."

"Will you execute this one?"

"Of course."

Semreh nodded, looking thoughtful. "There's always the possibility that Ventress will refuse to join us. That she'll decide to walk away."

"That doesn't sound like her." Bolt observed thoughtfully.

"You knew her well?"

"Well enough to be called old friends." Bolt admitted. "Well enough to know that the odds of her accepting a deal to fight for the Republic are minimalistic. She did love war though."

"Regardless, we know her loyalties changed after the Battle of Boz Pity." Semreh argued pressingly. "Otherwise why wouldn't she return to the fight?"

Bolt shrugged. "And if she doesn't return? If she means to live out her life away from Jedi and Sith? From politics and war?"

"_She'd be one of the lucky ones._" Semreh thought to himself.

Now it was Semreh's turn to lean back, letting his body sink to the floor in a state of exhaustion. Too many tough decisions, too much fighting. That's all his life since the Clone Wars had been.

"In the last months of the war, my master and I were part of a Task Force Akk Wolf. Our primary directive was, 'the location and execution of Confederacy leaders deemed menaces to the galaxy'. People like Durge and Grievous."

Bolt said nothing. He was simply waiting on an order.

"We tracked Ventress for months. I see no reason why she should escape justice now." Semreh jerked his head towards Bolt's weapons belt. "If Ventress refuses to join us, give Scout the chance to kill her. And if she doesn't...kill Ventress yourself."

"And if Scout acts against me during my assassination of Ventress?"

"Use your judgment. If you believe that Scout's existence is a threat to the rebellion, I'll sanction any action you take."

"Then I shall exercise...discretion."

Bolt said nothing more. He merely nodded, shouldered his weapon, and left.

* * *

Thunk. Thunk.

Scout was hunched over, dropping one of the paper light Kilmaulsi knives into the ground over and over again, glowering. Asajj Ventress. She was a murderer. A Dark Jedi. She'd slaughtered Scout's master before her eyes, and gloated.

For months, even at home in the Temple, Scout had dreamt of that moment. Nightmares where Ventress held her by the throat with a vile Force grip. Where she'd been cut down by a crimson lightsaber, her skin scorched by Sith Lightning. Endless nightmares haunted by that bald, pale, evil woman. And now she was expected to ally herself with her.

But, there was another opportunity. The only one that kept Scout from walking out on their tiny rebellion. Asajj was a Sith. And, as far as Scout saw it, it was still the Jedi's job to defeat the Sith. And this...this was her chance. She could kill Asajj, and bring justice to her master. To Whie's Master. To countless Jedi who had fallen at her hand.

Scout stood. Yes, she would do it. A righteous anger filled her, fueled by months of Asajj's face mocking her in her sleep. She had the power now, the skill. It was a gift from master Yasuo, and she could use this gift. When she found Asajj, she would kill her. That was that. Everything in between was just minor detail.

* * *

Jolon and Tara stood ready, each wearing packs carrying food and supplies for the frontlines. As Semreh approached them, Jolon grinned broadly.

"Good to see the the Insurrection's chief strategist saw fit to see us off." He lazily jerked a thumb at Tara. "She wouldn't stop talking about you. I think-" His words cut off as the dirt underneath his feet slid out from under him.

"That's enough master." She said, cheeks reddening.

Jolon, for his part, only laughed. He then dug into his pack, withdrawing a small pack.

"Here." He said, handing the package over. When Semreh opened it, he saw it contained several syringes as well as canisters that could be loaded into them.

"What's this?"

"As you know, I possess unique skill in healing. Such unique skill that I can heal you through our bond in the Force."

Semreh nodded, remembering the dangerous fight in the alley way where only Jolon's healing bond had kept him alive.

"While we are far away, the bond will take more energy, meaning it will be less effective. However, I've managed to duplicate this healing effect with various chemicals."

"Soooo..." Semreh said leadingly.

The old man sighed.

"So one shot from these syringes will affect the cells in your body the same way a healing in the Force does. Your cells will multiply in your body, healing you even if your on the brink of death."

"Amazing!" Semreh crowed happily, looking at the small kit in fascination. "This sounds almost better than bacta."

"Well, it would be." Tara said with a bemused expression. "But there's one small little kink we have yet to work out."

"Oh?" Semreh glanced at her. He hadn't realized that Tara was working so closely with Jolon on his experiments.

"Any test subjects we've used have died shortly afterwards." Jolon explained bluntly.

Semreh almost dropped the kit in surprise. "Care to explain that?"

"As I said, this stimulant imitates a Force healing." Tara began.

"Correct." Jolon interrupted. "And a Force healing is essentially using midi-clorians in the body that we all, Force sensitive and normal, have to accelerate cell multiplication in the body."

Semreh nodded. That was what they'd always been taught.

"However, my own version of Force healing is advanced enough to accelerate this healing to the point that I will heal myself as soon as I'm injured." Jolon said. "It's the same way that we use Electric Judgment, healing our bodies as soon as the electricity injures them. That's why I made this bond with you in the first place."

"Yes, yes." Semreh waved his hand impatiently. "And how exactly does that kill us?"

"It doesn't, because I am there to control the multiplication of cells and keep them in check. However, if this stimulant is used without a healer as skilled as me around, then the cells will continue multiplying out of control, creating a type of cancer. However, this cancer would be to quick to stop, causing the stimulant to kill the person even as they rejuvenate them."

"Too much of a good thing then?" Semreh said, looking to Tara for confirmation.

"Exactly." She nodded at the kit. "But we figured we'd give it to you, since it won't be any good to us on the frontlines anyways."

"I'll keep it safe." Semreh promised.

"In addition," Jolon continued, "I want you to send Jenna with us to Vandom."

"Jenna?" Guilt swept over Semreh. He'd barely thought of the girl since they'd saved her and her kids from the Empire. "Why?"

"She's a Force sensitive." Jolon said by way of explanation. "Surely you sensed it?"

Semreh nodded, slightly irritated. He'd had a feeling, when he saw her calm her kids so easily, that she might be able to touch the Force. But finding Force sensitives had never been his specialty.

"I had my suspicions." Semreh said defensively.

"Well, for whatever reason, Force sensitives seem to fall out of the sky around you." Jolon chuckled slightly. "And since you've got the teaching skills of blue milk, I figured I should at least train her to use her powers."

Semreh nodded. "I'll send her, but convincing her to train with you will be your job."

"Of course."

Awkward silence followed, with Jolon only picking up on it a few moments later.

"I'll go see about our speeder." He said, making an exit.

For a few moments, neither Semreh nor Tara spoke. Semreh rubbed the back of his neck nervously, while Tara bit her lip. Finally...

"You really don't have to go you know."

"Oh? You think you're ordering me?" Tara laughed as Semreh blushed. Why was talking to women so bloody difficult. "That's cute."

"I just...Be careful." Semreh finished lamely.

"Right." Tara leaned in suddenly, kissing Semreh lightly on the lips.

For a moment, they stood there, lost in bliss. Then Tara pulled away with a wild laugh.

"Besides, what's the worse that could happen? We're just fighting a war after all!"

The two young Force users laughed, letting the stress and worry from the weeks prior roll off them.

"When I get back, you'll have to take me on a date. One that doesn't involve stormtroopers." Tara added with a wink. "Or Trandoshan slavers."

"I promise." Semreh felt his stomach flip.

"Good." Tara leapt into the small speeder alongside Jolon, joining the long convoy of troops and soldiers marching to the front. "Looking forward to it."

* * *

Jenna felt out of place amongst all this war and destruction. As a student, she'd avoided the Clone Wars at all cost, yet now she found herself surrounded by militia in drab brown and grey, mercenaries sporting body armor, and even those strange feathered aliens in archaic armor.

There were vehicles of every make and model, and Jenna could have sworn she saw a contingent of men riding powerful six legged creatures called Hackels. So many soldiers, and Jenna feared few would survive the coming months.

She'd always been a gentle person, pursuing harmony instead of violence or aggression. But now here she was in the midst of a war.

She saw Semreh coming up, dressed in the plain, unassuming clothes of a civilian, his sweatshirt hanging loosely around his trousers.

"Up and at 'em Jenna." He said cheerfully, pulling her to her feet. "I have a job for you."

"A job?" She said, looking back over her shoulder. Her children were hanging around a tent Jasper had set up, watching the marching army.

Semreh followed his gaze.

"Don't worry, we'll see to their needs." Semreh held out a small data chip. "On here are directions to a landing pad we've set up a few kilos out. There'll be a transport there for you to take north to Vandom."

That got her attention. "The frontlines?"

Semreh hesitated. "...Technically, but I need you to go speak with Jolon. He's a skilled Force user who will be able to...confirm something."

"Whether I have Force powers."

He started slightly. "How'd you know?"

"That man, the Inquisitor, he wanted me to use them. So he could train me. Use me as a weapon." She looked up at him, dark hair falling around her eyes. "Is that what you plan to do too?"

His insides twisted sharply. It was not the first time he'd been accused of using people.

"No, it will be your choice." He assured her, not really believing it. She seemed content though.

She sighed slightly in relief. "Thank you. I knew you wouldn't force something like that on me."

He nodded, a bitter taste in his mouth. Whether he used Jenna as a weapon or not, he was bringing her into this world of war and pain, and he felt terrible just abandoning her, even if his other duties called him away.

He hesitated for a moment, than pulled something from his belt. It was the small hold out blaster, given to him by that Mandalorian all that time ago. A year and a half. Almost two. It felt longer.

"Here." He said, handing her the weapon and then taking the small holster from his side. "It's not much for power, but you can conceal it in case something ever happens."

For a second, it looked like Jenna might refuse the weapon. She really was a pacifist huh. A moment later though, she took the weapon, looking at it with vague disgust.

"Thank you." She murmured.

Jenna was still innocent of war. Semreh hoped against hope she'd stay that way.

* * *

Scout stood, waiting for a few of the service personal on the landing platform to finish loading the _Arrow_. When the fleet had arrived, they'd immediately begun ferrying supplies down, so much so that makeshift landing areas had been set up around the camp. The _Arrow_ was settled down on one of these open patches of dirt, but not for long.

"You set." A tired looking Tag had said as he stepped from the ship's opening behind her. She nodded distractedly.

"Sure you won't wear more armor?"

Scout shook her head, looking down at herself. Under Tag's suggestion, she'd donned a protective flak vest that were favored by Bren's mercenaries, and Tag had helped her outfit it, adding a range of small holsters for her knives as well as other supplies.

"Anything else would impede my movement." She assured him.

"And wearing big, heavy robes is better?"

She said nothing, just ignoring him until he ducked back into the freighter. Scout was a Jedi, and no matter how much she changed or took to wearing armor, she would always at least try to look the part. So, over her vest she wore the traditional Jedi robes, as well as her old tunic underneath.

"Well we're just about finished." Tag commented, heading back towards the cockpit. "Tell Bolt to hurry it up."

She nodded, stepping down the ramp towards Bolt, who was deep in conversation with Semreh. They both turned when she approached, ceasing their conversation.

"_Talking about me."_ She thought, bristling at the sight of Semreh for a moment before she could wrestle down the anger. _"No, probably not. It's not their fault anyways."_

But it was. By the Force, it was. All the anger Scout felt, her irrepressible rage at being forced to ally with an old nemesis...she knew, or at least had guessed Semreh's secondary objective.

"We're ready." She spoke looking straight at Bolt's face, ignoring Semreh.

The merc nodded, shouldered his long barreled slugthrower, and nodded to Semreh.

"I'll send a burst transmition when we find her. Coded of course."

Semreh nodded, shook the mans hand, and then turned to Scout.

There was nothing to say. Scout should have just turned, leaving Semreh to his coniving, evil little thoughts. But she couldn't.

"May the Force be with you." Semreh murmured.

Scout almost laughed. The Force? The Force had abandoned her long ago. The Force was never there for her. But now...Scout would call on everything. She would call on the Force, her knives, her lightsaber, even her own two fists. She would throw everything she had at Ventress.

And, Ventress would die.

_**Hope you all are enjoying this! Really think I'm getting back into the groove. Please Read and Review! Thank you all!**_


	86. Chapter 86 The War

**Hey everyone! I'm back with this story. It was a long year, with a lot of writing intensive classes, so I couldn't write. However, I'm back on the wagon now! To those who continue reading, I hope you enjoy. For new readers, glad to have you! Read and Review!**

Forte could feel the _Regal_ jerk under his feet as the ship dropped from hyperspace. Quick jumps like that were always far from smooth and precise. In fact, Forte was just glad the ship had survived the journey at all. They were lucky they hadn't meandered into a star or some other galactic obstacle.

"Status."

Immediately, reports flew at him from all sides, a jumbled mix of rambling he could barely discern. He sighed. Luckily, he was well practiced at this.

The _Regal_ itself was fine. The engines had been strained from the quick maneuvering. There were no hull breaches despite torpedo impacts on the port side. They'd apparently lost one ship in transit, and the quick jump had scattered the rest of the fleet all over the system. It would take an hour before they were ready to launch again.

But that was okay with the admiral. He had business anyways.

"Deploy the communication buoys and make a connection to Coruscant." He ordered from the command deck.

"Copy sir. Sending it through now. Shall I patch it through to the private comms in your quarters?"

"Yes, thank you ensign." Forte turned, hurrying to his personal quarters, conveniently located very near the bridge. When he entered, he dimmed the lights to allow the hologram to show better, and waited.

Then, from a floor projector in the center of the room, the image of Grand Moff Tarkin appeared. Straight backed and eagle eyed, he and Forte could have been brothers they looked so similar. Both also had extensive and decorated combat service. There though, the similarities ended.

"Admiral Forte." The Moff said with a slight incline of his head. "I expected to hear from Admiral Amistad. Has he been removed of command?"

The Moffs cool tone betrayed his real meaning. He suspected that Forte had attempted a mutiny, seizing the ship himself.

"No sir, but he is currently indisposed."

"Indeed." The Moff spoke with a voice warning him to tread carefully.

"We were ambushed above Melida/Daan." Forte spoke quickly, rushing to waylay Tarkin's concerns. "A massive fleet of ships of all makes and models. The exited hyperspace and immediately moved into attack position."

"All while your ground strike force was deployed." Tarkin finished thoughtfully.

Forte almost nodded, but then remembered that they had not reported the attack to high command. Someone though apparently had. Tarkin apparently didn't trust him any more than Forte trusted Tarkin.

"Yes sir. I was forced to withdraw to the nearby Tali system. I suggest that we pull back to the fleet staging point in the Bakura system. There, I can rearm, and move ships in to-"

"I have a better suggestion admiral." Tarkin spoke for a moment to someone offscreen before returning to him. "Have you heard of the FG36 virus?"

Forte nodded reluctantly. In a highly publicized event, the Empire had unleashed the FG36 virus on the planet Gibad, several months ago. It was all part of Tarkin's plan to suppress insurrections across the galaxy through fear.

"We could simply deploy this virus on Melida/Daan." Tarkin offered. "The mere threat of it may cause the enemy to capitulate. While we have seen increased resistance to the virus in the galaxy, we have several more that need testing."

Forte's gloves creaked as his hands tightened. Tarkin was looking for another scapegoat to show the galaxy the might of the Empire. Of course, all Forte had to do was let the planet and it's inhabitants burn.

"I don't think so sir." Forte said, thinking fast. "While the powerful shield generator they have in place will not deflect a biological attack, the fleet surrounding the planet is too dangerous. And," he added with a raised finger, "This rebellion gives us the chance to demonstrate the power and skill of the Imperial Navy. If we are reinforced that is..."

Tarkin's eyes bored into Forte, interrogating him with sheer glaring.

"And if I ordered you to conduct this attack Admiral?" Tarkin queried suspiciously.

"I would not carry it out." Forte said, chin high, at full attention.

For a long while, Tarkin tried to glare down the admiral, but eventually, he relented. Forte had trained too many of the Empire's rising stars in the navy for Tarkin to simply order his execution.

"Very well, you will be reinforced with both naval and land assault forces."

Tarkin brought up his datapad, scrolling through the list of available forces.

"As you know, our forces are spread precariously thin." Tarkin explained. "However, we do have several garrisons that you can pull from, as well as nearby patrols."

Forte nodded. "As long as it lets me break through that blockade and reinforce our strike force."

"Well, I can give you three line battalions of Imperial Army troopers from Bakura, as well as the Bakurian garrison fleet and one Assault Battalion." Tarkin continued scouring his datapad. "There's also a few more planets we can draw from, which will probably amount to around five line battalions, two armor battalions, one repulsorlift battalion, and three artillery battalions. All of them Army."

"No stormtroopers?" Forte asked, disappointed.

"As I said before," Tarkin said through gritted teeth, "We're spread very thin."

Forte nodded and was about to cut connection when Tarkin stopped him. "However, I do know of one more asset we can divert to you. There's an Imperial Commando unit operating against various activity in the area. I can have their mission scrapped though and transferred to your command."

"Much obliged." Forte thanked the Moff. "How long?"

"A week for all the resources to mobilize."

Forte nodded. He'd expected as much.

"When you are rearmed," Tarkin continued, "Strike at Melida/Daan. Since their rebellion started, we've seen increased guerrilla activity in many Outer Rim Sectors. I suspect the leaders of this new insurgency are there."

"You believe that this insurrection on Melida/Daan is part of some greater conspiracy?"

Tarkin looked thoughtful, unsure about that theory.

"Distantly related perhaps...We do have some information that indicates the Jedi are involved."

"Did you expect anything less after we wiped out most of their order?"

"No," Tarkin's face seemed scrunched with frustration, "But Lord Palpatine seems to have dismissed them as a threat. He still has a large task force of Inquisitors and commandos hunting them, but he does not actually seem to fear what disruption they could cause."

Personally, Forte agreed. The Jedi were somewhat militant, but they were a religious order at heart. At this point, the Empire should have been focusing on building up its own strength, rather than executing a group of monks happy to sit in temples and meditate.

"If you find any Jedi, you know that they are to be captured alive if at all possible."

"Of course Moff Tarkin." Forte assured, knowing full well the low chances of that happening.

"In particular, there is one Jedi that the Empire wants alive."

Tarkin readjusted his datapad, showing its miniature holoprojector. The image of a boy, around seventeen or eighteen, appeared. He seemed rather plan, with short cropped brown hair and a tough square jaw.

"This holo is from records of Jedi Padawan Semreh Kaasen, who fought in the Clone Wars. In addition to being an experienced fighter, he has certain qualities the Empire wants."

"You suspect he is behind this insurrection?"

"I don't know about that, but the Emperor has given strict orders for his capture. Take him alive."

Forte looked at the boy's image, rotating slowly before him. A padawan? Why was the Empire so hot for one padawan?

"It will be done my lord."

* * *

"I don't know what plans you've been concocting in your head," Bolt said to Scout as he cleaned his rifle, "But if Asajj decides to decline our offer, there's the definite chance that she'll attack us."

Scout said nothing. After all, she fully expected Asajj to try and cut them both down. In fact, she was counting on it.

"The Rattaki are a species born from centuries of natural selection. Long ago, we were a part of the galactic community, and allies of the Sith Empire. When one of our own attempted to seize the Sith throne for himself, the Empire drove our species to near extinction. Since then, our planet has been overwhelmed with combat. Warlords fighting over petty fiefdoms, and almost constant conflict."

"As you can guess," Bolt continued, "This has created a species almost solely designed for combat. Rattaki are tougher, with a higher endurance that few other species can match. Our bodies release a special enzyme when tired or hungry. This enzyme actually makes us stronger, faster, and more alert during famines and sieges."

"Yes yes yes," Scout waved Bolt on impatiently, "But how do I beat that?"

"You won't have to." Bolt explained. "I tell you this because it's likely that Asajj will have Rattaki bodyguards. She herself was a powerful warlord, and probably still retains the loyalty of her people. Asajj herself though," He said with a grin, "is not a Rattaki."

Scout simply waited. She wasn't in the mood for dramatics.

"Asajj is one of the Dathomir Witches, and was brought to our planet as a youth and adopted."

"That seems hard to believe." Scout remarked drily.

"Then I will stick to facts that you can believe." Bolt continued impatiently. "Asajj is a powerful Dark Jedi who has been responsible for the deaths of more people than you've ever met. She ruled Rattaki and while her power base may have eroded during the Clone Wars, the extreme isolation of the planet has kept it out of the Republic's eye for centuries. I suspect that the Empire has continued to overlook it."

"Then why would Asajj ever agree to help us?" Scout had no intention of asking the witch for any such help, but was curious.

Bolt simply shrugged. "Vengeance? Bloodlust? Or maybe she's bored? Who knows?"

"You would." Scout looked hard at Bolt, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You know her better than you let on. How?"

Bolt simply leaned back, closing his eyes in a way that said he was done.

"I have my reasons for going with you." Was all he offered as an answer.

* * *

Semreh rode the skids of the T-I90, better known as the Junker Gunship, like a pro. Bren had to give him that. On the other hand, the boy was a veteran of the Clone Wars and a Jedi. He'd probably been flying since he could fling people around rooms with his mind.

The T-I90 was a smaller version of the X4 gunship that the Incom Corporation was developing. Unlike its thoroughly militarized brother, the T-190 was largely a civilian craft used for hauling and transportation.

However, the Insurgents under Bren's command were innovative if nothing else, and it wasn't long before a fleet of T-190s was being outfitted with side-mounted E-Webs and missile launchers.

The gunship itself had a largely open hull, allowing for a full squad of soldiers plus extra ammo and heavy weapons. The ship was carried by repulsorlift emanating from a pair of wing-like generators slung under the craft like a pair of wings. The curved beaklike cockpit in the front added to the raptor like appearance.

This gunship though was not filled to the brink with soldiers. As Bren's personal bird, it contained a seemingly endless amount of communication and signal equipment, as well as most of his support staff.

"Order all birds to spread it out." He ordered as he leaned back into the gunship. Sticking his head back out, he briefly glimpsed the city of Vandom.

A major industrial center straddling the river Anders, Vandom was home to one of the few generators not located in an area specifically created to defend it. Most were either hidden or dug into mountainous areas. However, the generator here was essential to the overall umbrella, making it's location essential. And if Bren and Semreh were right, it was here that the strike force would turn to counter attack.

By now, the clones had no doubt regrouped. They'd been dealt a sharp blow, but were by no means defeated. Therefore, Bren, Semreh, and Sonya were leading a vanguard of their force consisting of Bren's original mercenary force and soldiers recruited over the past year, to head off this attack. The rest of the troops, including the massive militia force, would have to follow.

"Is Vandom under siege!" Semreh had to yell over the whirring repulsorlift.

"We've received no communiques from them." Bren answered over the roaring wind. "But we'll find out soon enough anyways."

Semreh nodded and looked down as he picked up his comlink. Beneath them, a convoy of vehicles were keeping pace with the Junkers. Most were wheeled assault and recon vehicles, the only ones fast enough and rugged enough to follow the Junkers over rough terrain.

"Sami, are you and your Rangers ready?"

"Copy that." Sami's voice crackled over the small com. "We'll set up a landing zone for you guys after your pass over."

"Alright. Be ready. Once we confirm the presence, or lack thereof, of Imperial troops, we'll land and decide how to proceed. Semreh out."

Below him, Bren glimpsed the vehicles breaking off from the convoy and racing towards the outskirts of the city. And still...no Imperials.

"We may have gotten here before them." Bren yelled over to Semreh.

The Jedi said nothing, deep in thought even as he hung from the gunship, the wind whipping his clothes about.

* * *

C-41 and the remnants of the Imperial strike force had regrouped. Officially, Rear Admiral Amistad, as the ranking soldier in the camp, was in charge. Unofficially, he belonged on a ship, a couple miles above the infantry at least.

So, the ever adaptable clone troopers had rallied around him. Amistad had reinstated C-41's rank as a commander for the purpose of commanding...Of course, he and CTA-132 had neglected to mention they were listed as dead.

Now though, there was no time for technicalities. Since the retreat of their strike force, the clones had been regrouping in the hinterlands of Melida/Daan. Typical of their superior training, different contingents from the city were gradually making their way to the safety of the Imperial camp, mostly in beaten up squads that had maneuvered and fought their way past hordes of militia and insurgents.

All and all, their casualties were less than they'd feared. The rioting crowds had acted less to kill and injure the clones, and more to try and block their escape. It was like trying to kill flies with a sledgehammer.

So, C-41 had a sizable force, and was reasonably well equipped as well. More importantly, his force was fast, with every trooper either rising on some type of transport or mounted onto speeder bikes. They'd use that to their advantage, getting to Vandom before the majority of the militia force could get there.

Of course, their advantage in maneuverability, training, and equipment would only take them so far. The crushing weight of Melida/Daan's entire population could, and would, eventually overtake them. They needed to take Vandom and deactivate the shield generator there before then.

From atop his tank, C-41 saw the clustered buildings of Vandom, the river that was its namesake splitting the city. And flying towards them...

"Gunships." CTA-132 exclaimed from the cockpit. "The Jedi are going to beat us there."

C-41 hated to admit it, but his companion was right. There was no way their force could seize Melida/Daan and destroy the generator before the Jedi got there.

"Pull back and set up camp." He ordered over comlink. "Tomorrow, we'll launch our ground assault."


End file.
